Where Monsters Lie
by isis uf
Summary: Remus returns to England six years after abruptly leaving Tonks. Though Voldemort was defeated years ago, Death Eaters are still on the loose and when a crisis occurs, Remus finds himself fighting side by side with the woman he's tried so hard to forget.
1. Chapter 1

**Where Monsters Lie  
**By Isisuf

**Pairing** – Remus/Tonks  
**Warnings** - adult themes, violence, gore, sex, cursing  
**Disclaimer** – I don't own any of this and, sadly, never will.  
**Summary** –Remus returns to England after a six-years of trying to escape the memories of his relationship with Tonks. Though Voldemort was defeated seven years ago, some Death Eaters are still on the loose and a crisis occurs in which Remus finds himself fighting side-by-side with the one woman he's tried so hard to forget.

**Author's Notes** – Thank you to my betas, adianavy and anotherdreamer5. I poured a lot of myself into this story and I'd greatly appreciate some feedback. Thank you for reading. Updates will be sporadic.

**  
Chapter One**

In the seven years since Voldemort's defeat, little had changed in Diagon Alley. The cobblestone streets bore no evidence of the wizards and witches who had trod upon them over the years. Flourish & Blotts, Gringrotts Bank and even Ollivander's Wands, minus the unfortunate Mr. Ollivander, continued serving London's magical community as they had for centuries.

But, Diagon Alley had never changed much, despite the passage of time or turbulent events it went through. The wars with the giants in the 6th and 7th centuries, the goblin rebellions in the 17th century and even both wars with Lord Voldemort had not managed to make a lasting mark on the wizarding world's economic mainstay. And so, it should have come as no surprise to Remus Lupin that during his six-year absence, in a time of relative quiet, little had changed. For some reason though, it was more familiar than he had expected.

He had known it would not be easy to come back. Precious few things in his life had ever been easy. But, he certainly hadn't expected it to be quite this hard. Everywhere he looked, he saw her – dragging him into the Leaky Cauldron for a round of butterbeers, mocking the ridiculous fashions of the day in the window of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, laughing at Fred and George's latest prank props at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

When he'd left six years ago, desperate to keep himself from further hurting the only woman he'd ever loved, he hadn't realized that her memory would haunt him every day. It was only now that he was beginning to understand that it always would.

Six long years had taken their toll on the middle-aged werewolf, even more so than the war-ravaged years prior. He'd been running from himself as much as from her memory and the memory of what he'd done. The problem, he'd found, was that it was rather impossible to run from oneself. He'd left England and devoted himself to a lonely life of mastering the art of crafting wolfsbane potion and researching alternative treatments. A grumpy loner locked away with nothing but potion ingredients and ancient texts, Remus had never felt quite so sympathetic toward Severus Snape in his life.

The fall of Voldemort had not, of course, ended the struggle against dark magic. Evil always had and always would exist. They had been sure the last of the Death Eaters would be rounded up within months. Seven years later, there were still a great many on the loose and all indications were that the once-loyal servants of Voldemort had begun banding together once again. It was for this reason that Headmistress Minerva McGonagall and Order of the Phoenix leader Harry Potter had requested his return. Remus was nothing if not loyal. So, despite his reservations and better judgment, he had returned from his self-imposed exile after six hard years.

And so, here he was, back where he saw the ghosts of _them_ on every street corner, in every store, his arm around her waist, her delicate hands lightly fingering the soft hair at the nape of his neck. He was certain it would slowly kill him or land him in St. Mungo's.

The thoughts of them were so vibrant, weighing so heavy on his tired mind, that he was almost grateful when a small boy ran out of the apothecary shop and collided with him, tripping over a raised piece of cobblestone.

"Are you okay?" Remus asked, kneeling down to the boy's level and offering him a hand up.

The small boy took Remus' proffered hand and raised himself up, dusting off his knees.

"I'm okay, mister. Sorry for runnin' into you," he smiled.

Remus smiled back at the oddly familiar child and ruffled the kid's short brown hair.

"You be careful. I'm glad you're all right," he said.

The child's grin grew larger as he stared with big blue eyes at Remus. Suddenly, the boy blinked and his blue eyes turned to a light amber brown.

"I trip a lot," the boy confided in him. "Mummy says its genectic."

"Genetic," Remus corrected, staring at the boy bewildered.

He was sure the boy's eyes had been blue… bright blue. But they certainly weren't now. The child's amber-brown eyes twinkled as though he had some hidden secret and an impossibly wide grin promised that he really wasn't very good at keeping secrets.

"John!" A woman's voice shouted frantically.

"I'm here, mummy," the boy shouted back.

Remus' eyes went from the perplexing child up to the boy's mother.

His breath caught in his throat.

"John! You know better than to run off like that, what if –" her voice died as he saw him.

"Remus," she whispered.

Remus opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came. Age had done nothing to mar her unique beauty, but he had a feeling that her abilities as a metamorphmagus had nothing to do with that fact. Simply put, she had aged and aged well. At 33 now, hints of a few wrinkles were beginning to show around her eyes, but they suited her somehow. Her short pink hair was exactly has he remembered it, though he could have sworn it dulled some as she noticed him. And, her stormy eyes reflected far more emotion than she would be comfortable knowing he'd seen.

"Mummy, do you know this person?" the little boy asked, grabbing Tonks' hand.

"I used to," she replied sadly and something in Remus' heart broke at the words.

"I ran into this guy. He's nice," announced the child.

Tonks tore her eyes from Remus to look down at the little boy with a mostly forced smile.

"By 'ran into' I suppose you mean literally? Fell flat on your bum and all?" she asked with strained amusement.

"Uh huh," the boy nodded. "But he was real nice. He helped me up and he smiled at me."

Her eyes flickered to Remus hesitantly before looking back down at her son. _Her_ son. Tonks had a son. The thought hit him like the Hogwarts Express. Tonks, his Tonks, the woman whose memory had plagued him for six years, had a child.

"Hey, little man. Why don't you go with Aunt Ginny and Aunt Hermione for some ice cream?" she asked her son.

Remus glanced past Tonks and her son to spy Ginny Weasley – no wait; it was Ginny Potter, now – standing next to Hermione Weasley. Both women smiled hesitantly and almost sympathetically at him, Ginny holding the hand of a little boy who looked to be slightly younger than Tonks' son and Hermione holding an infant dressed all in pink.

Aunt Ginny. Aunt Hermione. Well of course, they were sisters-in-law now, weren't they? Aunt Ginny… Aunt Hermione. Did that mean one of the Weasley boys was the father of Tonks' son? Had Charlie or Fred or George swept in after he left? Had one of them held her hand while she'd been at St. Mungo's recovering from the gouge in her side he'd so unwittingly given her? Had one of them been there for her when he couldn't? When he wouldn't? Certainly _someone_ had, John was proof enough of that, but he couldn't help but feel his jaw clench painfully as he thought of one of the Weasley boys kissing her, touching her, making her scream their name in a breathless prayer.

"Chocolate! Can I have chocolate, mummy?" John squealed.

"Sure, just don't leave Aunt Ginny and Hermione's sides, okay? I'll meet you in a few minutes," she told him as he ran eagerly to his aunts and grabbed Ginny's free hand.

Somehow, Remus found his voice.

"He's beautiful, Nym," he said.

A pained look overtook her face and wasn't sure if it was because he'd spoken, because he'd inadvertently fallen back to calling her Nym, or because he was simply there.

"Tonks…" he corrected himself.

"Thank you," she replied, but her face looked no less pained and he wasn't sure if she was thanking him for calling her son beautiful or for correcting himself on her name.

There was an awkward silence for a moment as they stared at each other, three meters apart, but with so much distance between them.

"How old is he?" Remus asked her.

"He's five," she replied quickly and quietly.

"Five…" he breathed.

Five meant she hadn't waited more than a few months before moving on. Five meant he'd probably been in Poland, researching the history of the development of wolfsbane potion, still hoping that one day he'd be safe enough to be back with her, when she'd given birth to him. Five meant that she'd certainly haunted him more than he'd haunted her.

"He's a good kid," she said suddenly, the silence weighing too heavily on them both. "He's got my clumsiness and my restlessness, but he's a good kid."

"He's a metamorph," Remus stated.

She looked at him quizzically. "How did you know?"

"His eyes changed… when I was helping him up," Remus said softly.

Tonks nodded, chewing her lip.

"He's taken to copying people's eye colors," she said. "Its good practice for him, I suppose. He's got far more control over it than I did at his age, or so my mother tells me."

Remus nodded and gulped, willing himself to look away from her. He couldn't. Something about her drew him in, as it always had. She, however, apparently found herself able to tear her eyes from him. She looked to her feet and traced the edge of the cobblestone with her toes.

"So, you're back."

It wasn't a question.

"Harry and Minerva asked me to come. They said they need my help," he replied, almost apologetically. "I'm meeting Harry shortly at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Of course," she whispered. "Of course, _they_ needed you, so you're back."

"It's… it's good to see you, Tonks," he told her, sounding as though every word pained him to say.

She looked up at him, searching for something.

"Is it really?" she asked bluntly, clearly disbelieving him.

_No, it's not_, he thought. _I see you everywhere. Every day. And it kills me more each time. I can't do this. I don't know how._

"You… you look great," was all he said.

She nodded, pursing her lips, and he could have sworn he'd seen her eyes water some.

"Right," she muttered. "Well, I should get back to my son."

"Oh," he said. "Right, sure."

"I suppose I'll see you at the Order meeting tonight?" she asked him.

"Yes," he replied.

"We rotate where we hold meetings, now. Tonight's meeting is at my flat," she informed him.

"Your flat?" he asked.

"Yes. I moved when you… well, I moved. I suppose Harry will give you the address when you meet with him," she said and paused for a moment. "It really is good to see you, Remus."

She didn't wait for him to say it back. She turned and left without another word and it was only once her pale pink hair ducked into Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour that he found himself able to breathe again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Harry had been ecstatic to see the last marauder. Even at 25, Harry looked every bit the schoolboy as he and Remus spent the better part of the afternoon sharing butterbeers in the Leaky Cauldron. If he'd noticed Remus was distracted, his thoughts venturing to an oft pink-haired ex-lover and her son, Harry certainly hadn't given any sign of it.

Watching Harry, now older than James had ever been, Remus had to wonder if the sorting hat had debated over what house to put him in all those years ago. Harry was brave, to be sure, but his unflinching loyalty might have earned him a place in Hufflepuff. Remus had missed the young man's wedding, the birth of his son and every other event in his life the past six years. But, Harry treated him as if nothing had changed, as if he'd been there all along.

As they headed toward the fireplace to floo to Tonks' home for the meeting, Remus couldn't help think the others were far less likely to be as understanding.

Most of the Order had already gathered by the time Harry and Remus arrived at Tonks' home. Some of the faces were new, though Remus still recognized more than half the people there. But, whether he knew them or not, all eyes were on him as soon as they'd entered the small flat. All eyes, that is, but Tonks'.

As Ron, Hermione and Ginny greeted him and began to fill him in on everything he'd missed over the years, Remus found his eyes wandering toward the pink-haired witch in the next room again and again. While everyone else seemed to either be talking to him or about him, Tonks had busied herself brewing tea and shooing her son into his room where Molly Weasley appeared to be looking after several children of various Order members.

"Wizards and Witches of the Order," called the crisp, commanding voice of Minerva McGonagall. "I ask you to each take a seat and we shall begin this meeting."

It was, of course, at this precise moment that Remus stepped upon what seemed to be a toy dragon. The miniature Hungarian Horntail let loose a rather imposing, realistic sounding roar and heatless flames spewed from its mouth. And Remus found that, yet again, he had the attention of the room.

"Oh Merlin," Tonks exclaimed, rushing over to grab the wayward toy and acknowledging Remus' presence for the first time that evening.

"If any of you lot give noisy toys to John for his birthday this year, I'm reminding you all of this moment," she swore, her cheeks flushing to match her hair color.

Tonks shot an accusatory glace at the twins who stood chuckling together behind the sofa.

"Don't look at us!" exclaimed George.

"That one was from Charlie," Fred finished.

"Yes, well, I'll thank you to pass along the message to him," said Tonks, shaking the offending toy at the twins. "Not that I expect him to listen."

Tonks glanced at Remus briefly and he could have sworn there was some sort of guilty apology in her eyes before they flickered back to the twins. His gaze fell to the toy still in her hand which let loose a final roar, twitch of the tail and heatless flaming breath before falling dormant once more.

Charlie Weasley. They were the same age, weren't they? She must have known him from Hogwarts.

He winced at the thought of the stocky red-haired man. Try as he might, staring at that stupid toy dragon, he couldn't get the image of the two of them together out of his head – her draped on his arm laughing at something, him snogging her senseless on the couch of their old apartment, her straddling him and grinning wickedly as she traced the dragon tattoo on his left arm. It was all Remus could do not to run and throw-up. Lovely start to an Order meeting that would have been.

"Well, if that's quite taken care of, I should like very much to call this meeting to order," pronounced the headmistress. "Harry, I give you the floor."

It struck Remus that the schoolboy look Harry had been exuding earlier was gone entirely as the raven-haired man stood commandingly at the front of the room. There had been, it appeared, a great deal Remus had missed out on during his absence.

"Thank you, Minerva," said Harry solemnly, looking every bit the leader he was. "As has been suspected for some time, remaining Death Eaters have begun banding together once again."

The murmurs in the room rose to a dull roar until Harry raised a hand, his stern green eyes putting the voices to rest.

"Make no mistake, this is very dangerous to us and we must act to put down this threat before they become too organized," the young man pronounced, his eyes drifting to Remus.

"What has our intelligence told us about their plans?" Asked Kingsley Shackelbolt from his place next to the hearth.

"As of right now, we know of approximately a dozen former Death Eaters who are working together," said Harry. "At this point, their goal is revenge, but I have no doubt that they won't remain satisfied with that for long and their lust for power will rear its ugly head."

"Damn Slytherin gits," Ron muttered earning him a swat on the arm from Hermione and a glare from someone across the room that Remus vaguely remembered as a Slytherin from his time teaching at Hogwarts.

"Revenge is reason enough for us to be concerned," came Tonks' surprisingly cautious voice. "What are we doing to protect ourselves and the children?"

"We're adding extra wards to all our homes. We have spies close to some of the Death Eaters, so hopefully we'll know before they try anything," said Harry calmly. "We're setting up a patronus crisis communication system and we will all be in touch daily. If you still feel you need extra protection, those of you who know the location are welcome to stay at the old headquarters."

As Harry was not and had never been the secret keeper for Grimmauld Place, he could not speak the address. But those Order members who had been told of Grimmauld Place by Dumbledore before his untimely death were quite clear on his meaning all the same.

"Many of you will be pulled aside and asked to take on specific missions to ensure the safety of our members," said Harry slowly. "As you might have guessed, that is why Remus is here with us today."

Again, Remus found himself under the uncomfortable scrutiny of everyone in the room. But, Harry cleared his throat and began handing out assignments, drawing their attention back to The-Boy-Who-Lived. The twins were developing new "prank" toys that masqueraded as candlesticks, but actually served as a kind of eavesdropping device. Kingsley and Tonks were to continue to watch for any suspicious activities reported to the Ministry. Bill was to monitor the accounts of several suspected Death Eaters for any noteworthy transactions.

All-in-all it was so reminiscent of a scene seven or eight years prior that Remus found himself once again openly appraising his former lover, as though no time had passed at all, as though after the meeting they'd be not-so-stealthily sneaking up to his room at Grimmauld Place with no thoughts but him and her and _them_. But, his observations of her left no doubt at all that things had changed and changed substantially.

He had never seen her quite so focused as she was now. Her lips were pursed, her eyebrows knit together and concern was written across her tiny heart-shaped face as she paid rapt attention to Harry's plans. But, she must have felt his eyes on her because he suddenly found hers staring back at him. He flushed like a lovesick fifth-year who'd been caught ogling the Head Girl, and turned away. If anyone had noticed they said nothing, but a bemused smirk on Harry's face told him he'd been caught none-the-less.

What was he thinking? There were a hundred reasons he couldn't be looking at her like he had been. But, every time he saw her, all of those reasons seemed to melt away. It was dangerous to be near her. It always had been. And he found himself no better prepared to resist her now than he had been so many years ago.

"Remus," said Harry suddenly. "We'll talk tomorrow evening about your mission, after you've had a chance to settle in. I'm assuming you'll be staying at Grimmuald?"

Remus smiled at the young man, grateful for his reprieve. "Yes, I will."

The meeting was clearly over and Remus began collecting everyone's discarded teacups, figuring it was the least he could do to help out Tonks. Mad-Eye clapped him on the back as a sort of goodbye and he'd almost missed the pink-haired witch heading out onto her balcony in the controlled chaos that resulted from the kids being let loose from John's bedroom.

"Mummy!" hollered John as he barreled onto the balcony where Tonks was sitting quietly.

The boy tripped on the edge of the rug and nearly knocked Remus over in the process, but recovered quickly. It was obvious that this was a fairly regular occurrence.

"Hey, little man," Remus heard Tonks murmur to the child as she ruffled his hair affectionately.

"Chris is in trouble!" John announced with a grin. "We were playing Auror and Death Eater. I made him be the Death Eater and he said Ava Kava. Gramma Molly heard him and now he's in big trouble."

"As well he should be," Tonks informed her son. "The Adava Kedavra is an unforgivable curse for a reason. It's nothing to joke about."

"I know that, mummy! _He_ said it. Not me," John said rolling his eyes.

From his vantage point, Remus watched a genuine smile overtake Tonks' face as she pulled her son onto her lap. This was, he knew, a family moment for Tonks and her young son. He was about to turn away and deposit the rest of the dishes in the kitchen when John's young voice halted him suddenly.

"Mummy, why are you sad? Are you thinking about daddy?"

He knew he shouldn't intrude. It was really none of his business. But, Remus found himself wholly unable to move from his spot near the sliding glass door in the dining room. He could see her – he could hear her – for the first time in so long, and his curiosity was overwhelming.

A funny kind of look splashed across Tonks' face and Remus knew she was about to lie through her teeth.

"I've got you. I'm not sad. Whatever gave you that idea?" She asked with a fake laugh.

"Gramma Molly," John informed her solemnly. "She said you miss my daddy. She said he's the love of your life."

Tonks paused thoughtfully before leaning over and kissing her son on the top of his head.

"You're the love of my life, little man. Don't you ever forget that," she murmured.

The boy fidgeted quietly in his mom's lap and looked up at her hesitantly.

"What is it, kiddo?" Tonks asked.

"It's just… it's okay to miss daddy, too," the child said earnestly.

Tonks studied the child sympathetically.

"John, are you wanting your dad? Is that what this is about?"

John looked about ready to cry. His big blue eyes were brimming with tears and his little lower lip was quivering a bit.

"Oh, honey. It's okay," Tonks whispered, pulling the boy close. "I know your daddy would love to see you, too."

"Maybe one day I can meet him when he doesn't have to fight the monsters anymore?" The little boy asked shyly.

Tonks' face screwed into that funny look again, and Remus knew she was about to lie to the boy once more.

"Yeah, maybe," she said.

There was a long quiet moment before either one of them spoke again and Remus was absolutely positive that any second she would turn and see him standing there. Surely his heartbeat was loud of enough to hear.

"Hey," Tonks said, shouldering her son lightly. "I bet I can do a better pig snout than you!"

"No way!" John giggled. "Mine's the best!"

For several minutes the two of them had a small morphing contest. First, it was pig snouts. Then it was cat's eyes. Finally they resorted to Tonks' old mainstay of neon hair colors.

"Ooooh, you got me," Tonks said, tickling her son with a wide grin as his hair displayed every single color of the rainbow. "I think you're better than me. Whatever will I do?"

John laughed. "Don't be silly, mummy."

"Silly, my friend, is my middle name… Nymphadora Silly Tonks."

"Better than my middle name," John said scrunching his nose in distaste.

It was then that Remus dropped a teacup, which promptly shattered on the floor earning him a rather surprised look from Tonks.

"Everyone has to hate at least one of their names, little man. It's a rule," she told her son, her eyes still glued to Remus. "Why don't you go see if Gramma Molly is still giving Chris a hard time? If she's still at it, remind her that he's barely five-years-old and wouldn't have enough hatred in his whole body to pull off a bat-boogey hex, much less an unforgivable."

John leapt off her lap, kissed her on the cheek and scampered inside, waving to Remus as he did so.

Tonks sighed heavily and chewed on her tongue lightly, an old nervous habit she'd apparently never lost, before getting up from her seat and leaning on the railing of the balcony. Remus found he was completely unsure of what he should do.

Did she want him to join her on the deck? Even if she did, should he? Certainly they'd be working together. They should be able to carry on a decent conversation, if nothing else, but it was a lovely evening and the light from the three-quarter moon reflected off her in a stunningly alluring fashion.

"Chris is Harry and Ginny's son," said Tonks suddenly and Remus found himself passing through the doorway. "He just turned five last month."

"I, um… I suppose he'll be well prepared for Defense Against the Dark Arts by the time he gets to Hogwarts if he's already familiar with the unforgivables," Remus replied lamely.

Tonks snorted indelicately and passed a sidelong glance to Remus as he continued his hesitant approach.

"He's _Harry's_ son. The child of The-Man-Who-Conquered," Tonks reminded him, rolling her eyes in dramatic fashion.

"Ah, right," Remus muttered. "Are they friends, then? John and Chris?"

"Inseparable," she replied.

As he leaned against the railing next to her, purely on instinct, he found his hand on the small of her back, his fingers lightly stroking the skin between the bottom of her shirt and the waist of her pants. She tensed suddenly. Her breath caught in her throat and he withdrew his hand quickly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I, ah, that is to say… old habit. My apologies."

He expected her to wave it off as nothing, or perhaps even to lean in and suggestively tell him that it was fine. She did neither and he found it a stunning reminder that six years had passed and she was not the same woman he'd left at St. Mungo's all those years ago.

"I won't do this with you again, Remus," she said deadly, looking him square in the eye. "I can't."

"I'm sorry. I didn't intend to suggest…" his voice trailed off as he momentarily wondered exactly what it was he _had_ been subconsciously attempting to suggest. "Old habit, Tonks. I had no intention to presume anything. Please forgive me."

She laughed wryly and shook her head. "You really haven't changed at all, have you?"

He was unsure whether this was meant as a compliment or a criticism, as they had been together for the better part of three years, but in the end he'd left her. Either way it was intended, though, he supposed it was true.

"Can't teach an old dog new tricks," he replied sardonically.

"Yes, I realized that six years ago," she muttered.

He winced and she bowed her head slightly apologetically. "I have no right to say that. I'm sorry."

"You have every right, Tonks," he said soberly. "I was the one who ran away… again."

"Can we not talk about this?" she huffed.

"What would you like to talk about?"

"Something else."

"Is John's dad really off fighting monsters?"

She looked at him as though perhaps he'd just announced that he'd been secretly studying divination and was going to run off to join the muggle circus as a fortune teller. Slowly, the look of incredulity bled from her face and was replaced with sheer ire.

"No, Remus. He left me before I even had John, but that hardly makes for a decent bedtime story, now does it?" She spat.

Remus shied away meekly under her glare. Some Gryffindor he was.

"I'm sorry, Tonks," he sighed, running his fingers through his mostly gray hair. "I had no right to ask that."

"Bloody right, you didn't," she growled at him.

"He must have been daft to leave you and that beautiful little boy," Remus said quietly.

"I rather think so," she said, laughing cynically.

The silence settled heavily between them as the waxing moon inched across the sky. It was unnerving to him that he could no longer hold a normal conversation with this woman whom he once could talk with so easily for hours on end.

"I did miss you, Tonks," he said quietly. "I still do."

"Why are you here, Remus?" She asked.

He wasn't sure if she meant here as in London or here as in on the balcony with her, but he supposed the answer was the same either way.

"It's where I need to be," he said.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

If attending an Order meeting at Tonks' home had been surreal, it was nothing compared to seeing Grimmauld Place again. Aside from the foyer, kitchen, sitting room and library, the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black seemed to have fallen once again into a state of horrible disrepair.

In brighter times, at least brighter times for him, the house had served as a rather odd combination between military barracks and a dormitory. A decade ago, the home had seen the resurrection of the Order, the birth of lasting friendships and the decisions that had framed the future of the wizarding world. Today though, it was mostly abandoned, housing only the metaphorical ghosts of moments past.

_He and Sirius were in the sitting room, quietly sipping firewiskey and chatting about the old days. Well, _he_ was doing this quietly, anyhow. Sirius was making something of a ruckus, partly because he really was enjoying himself for the first time in a long time and partly, Remus suspected, because Sirius rather relished the idea of seeing exactly how many times he could make Molly huff in exasperation. _

"_Reminds me more of Lily than I'd care to admit, that one," Sirius snorted as he waved cheekily at the irate Mrs. Weasley._

"_Really, Sirius. She's just worried about the example we're setting for her children. And anyhow, I can hardly imagine Lily with seven kids like the Weasleys. Honestly, Harry and James were enough," Remus said with a twinkle in his eye._

_Sirius found this particularly amusing and hooted with laughter until there was a dull thud and a string of rather impressive curse words emanating from the hall. Sirius' riotous laughter gave way to a smirk and a light chuckle._

"_Ten galleons says I know who that is," Sirius snorted._

_But before Remus could answer him one way or another, a young, startlingly orange-haired and orange-eyed witch stood with an amused smirk on her impish face and her hands planted firmly on her hips in what was obviously mock annoyance._

"_Sirius-Sodding-Black!" She pronounced loudly, her eyes twinkling with mischief. _

_Sirius was off the settee, hugging the witch and twirling her around before Remus had a chance to say so much as hello. _

"_Ah, Tonks, my love. I've missed you so," Sirius said dramatically and kissed her sloppily._

_Remus raised an eyebrow at the spectacle, but said nothing. Most people would have assumed them to be old lovers from the way Sirius was fawning over the young woman, but Remus knew better. Sirius was an exhibitionist through and through and he'd been out of the limelight for a very, very long time._

"_How are you, dear?" Sirius asked grinning like a madman as he pulled back from the kiss. She slapped him fairly hard, but the smile never left her face or his._

"_How am I? Let's see, I'm too closely related to you for you to be kissing me like that, you rake," she laughed. _

"_Fair enough, cousin," he cackled brilliantly. _

_Her eyes fell from Sirius over to Remus and she smiled at him boldly. It struck him suddenly that whereas Sirius was an exhibitionist, his cousin was quite simply expressive. From her smile, to her laugh, to her outlandish hair and eyes, everything about her exuded personality._

_However, despite her unorthodox hair and eyes, there was little about Tonks that stood out as remarkable. She wasn't especially pretty, but she wasn't ugly by any definition. Her figure was rather tomboyish and her face sort of plain. She wasn't tall, but neither was she short. She was thin, but not notably so. Yet, in spite of these things, he found her expressiveness had captured his undivided attention._

"_Hello there," she said to him, her eyes twinkling as though she had some hidden secret. "I'm Tonks."_

"_It is, ah… a pleasure to meet you Miss Tonks. I am Remus Lupin. I'm an old friend of Sirius," said Remus politely, extending his hand to shake hers._

_It was then that she grabbed him and kissed him squarely on the mouth – leaving Sirius howling with laughter and Remus in rather a state of shock. She pulled back, still grinning, and left Remus blinking at her in incredulity._

"_Seems to be the greeting around here. Didn't want you to feel left out, now did I, Remus? Lovely to meet you," She winked and trod off, stubbing her toe and leaving a trail of scuff marks on the floor as she went._

In moments where he was feeling particularly honest with himself – which was certainly not now, standing in the room they'd met in a decade ago – he knew that he'd loved her instantly. Her vivacious charm and unrelenting candor completely disarmed him from the start.

But then that was exactly the problem wasn't it? He didn't have the luxury to give in to his desires, no matter how strong they were. The closer he allowed himself to be to her, the more he endangered her and that was something he simply couldn't allow.

Remus sighed heavily and raked his hands through his gray-brown hair. There was nowhere in the world so stark a reminder of his weakness as Grimmauld Place. There was nowhere in Grimmauld Place so stark a reminder of his weakness as the hallway in front of his old bedroom.

After finally seeing her again, Remus knew he needed a reminder why he _couldn't_ have feelings for her anymore. But all the same, it took everything he had to walk up the old creaking stairs to the hallway he loathed to remember.

_The pain was excruciating, more so than usual. On top of the customary searing ache in his joints and extreme muscle fatigue he always felt following his transformations, his right arm felt as though it had been torn to shreds. _

_With a tortured groan of pain, Remus slowly opened his eyes to inspect his arm. His vision was awash with a sea of red. Bloodied and raw, his arm was impaled with a rather large shard of wood. Somehow, it didn't hurt quite so much as it looked like it should. His entire arm was riddled with deep gouges and he had to wonder exactly how he'd managed to do this to himself._

_Slowly and against his better judgment, he dragged his mauled arm down so he could inspect his hand. Two of his fingernails were gone completely and one of the others had snapped in half. The stubs of his fingers were worn nearly to the bone and had tiny splinters peppering them._

_He sighed again, deeply, watching the blood pool around his hand. And then it hit him, two distinctive smells – this was not just his blood. _

_Panic began to settle upon him and the acrid taste of bile threatened to overwhelm his senses as his stomach heaved involuntarily. Summoning all his energy, Remus pulled himself upright and dared to look behind him. _

_His vision blurred and his blood pounded so fiercely in his veins that it was all he could hear. The door to his old room in Grimmauld Place where he confined himself for his transformations was littered with claw marks and had one giant hole in the middle, edged in blood. That in itself would have been horrifying to him after any other transformation. But, this time he had something more substantial to worry about than a damn door._

_Through the hole in the door was a vision of shocking pink bathed in bloody red._

_Gathering strength he didn't really have, Remus pulled the door open and fell through the threshold. She was breathing and her eyes were open, wide-eyed in shock. She looked like she was trying to say something, but the words never made it to her lips. There was blood, too much blood._

_Her hands were clutching at the side of her stomach, but blood leaked through her fingers in violent spurts that revealed exactly how badly she was hurt._

"_Oh no, God no. Please God, anything but this," a voice said frantically. It took Remus a moment to realize it was his own._

_He grabbed her wrist tightly with his good arm and pried her wand from her hand. By all rights, with as exhausted as he was, he should have splinched them. But due to luck or fate or sheer force of will, they Apparated in the lobby of St. Mungo's. _

_He could vaguely hear shouts and the staccato pattern of hurried steps from the medi-witches as he lay naked on the floor, her wrist still secured in his hand. _

"_Save her, please. Oh God, you have to help her," he whispered with all the strength he could muster. _

_There were sparks and glows emitting from wands as words were muttered over them. Clinically cold hands forced her arm from his grasp and before he could protest a potion was poured down his throat and the darkness of sleep devoured him._

Remus stared at the door, long since replaced, and fingered the scars along his arm from that night. He didn't know how long he stood there, examining his scars on his arm and his memory.

Nothing haunted him like that night – not Sirius' death, not Peter's betrayal, not the night he was bitten. He had been so sure that she would die that he sobbed with relief when a medi-witch finally came and told him she would live and had not been bitten.

The guilt hit him all over again, suddenly and with full-force. As always, he didn't stop to realize that she'd obviously somehow brewed the potion wrong all those years ago. He didn't stop to think that, as a trained Auror, she should have known better than to be anywhere near the door where a werewolf was confined. She was good and sweet and perfect in his mind and this had been entirely his fault – his fault for ever thinking he could have some semblance of a normal life.

Loving her had been an achingly wonderful mistake, but a mistake none-the-less.

With a pained sigh, he turned from the hall and headed down the creaking stairs to the kitchen to brew himself some earl grey tea. The guilt weighed heavy on his soul, not just for what he'd done to her, but because, try as he might, he couldn't regret the stolen moments of happiness they'd shared.

His sipped his tea, black tonight as the bitterness seemed oddly appropriate, and indulged in letting his mind drift over the more pleasant memories of their time together.

The first time he'd kissed her, softly and as nervous as he'd ever been in his entire life.

How he'd felt the first time she'd told him that she loved him.

The time she'd introduced him to the very best muggle invention ever – fondue – and they'd explored the most enjoyable ways to savor chocolate together.

How brilliantly relieved he'd been when he'd finally caved and they got back together after Dumbledore's death.

That impish grin on her face when she'd been painting their new flat and suddenly turned on him with a brush full of violently purple paint.

The moment when she was cradled naked in his arms and confessed that her hair had only ever done that crazy spontaneous color-change thing when she was with him.

The relief he felt pulling her into his arms, bruised but not broken, as Voldemort fell.

How, when he'd caught her singing horribly off-key into her shampoo bottle like a microphone and dancing around in the shower, she'd just grinned at him and sung louder.

The last time he'd made love to her.

With a heavy heart, he rinsed the remnants of the now-lukewarm tea from his cup and closed his eyes. It was all years in the past, but it would sustain him for the rest of his life. It would have to, there wasn't any other option.

A frenzied knock on the door pulled him from wallowing in his bittersweet memories. He grasped his wand tightly and proceeded with great caution to the foyer. Grimmauld Place was perhaps the best hidden, most secure place in the whole of England, but it wasn't foolproof by any means.

Prepared to defend himself, Remus threw the door open, but lowered his wand quickly when he saw who stood on the porch.

Her hair a muted brown, her robe obviously hastily thrown on, Tonks stood with tears streaming down her face and a broom at her feet. Her hands shook visibly, even with her arms wrapped around her midsection. Her fiery eyes were bloodshot and her lower lip was quivering.

"Tonks?" he asked, taking her gently by the arm and helping her inside. "What's wrong? What hap-"

"My son," she said suddenly, her tearful eyes locked with his. "Death Eaters, they took my son."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note **- Kind of a short chapter, but quite a lot of conversation in it. The next chapter will be up early next week. After that, the updates will likely slow down a bit. I write faster with more reviews though and I welcome constructive criticism, so please let me know what you think of the story. Even if it's just a one line comment that you're enjoying it, that means a lot to me. Thank you soooooo much to everyone that's taken the time to review so far.

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**Chapter Four**

Remus tried, and ultimately failed, to keep his shock and horror from showing at Tonks' revelation as he helped her inside. As he led her to the kitchen and guided her to a chair, she seemed to be looking everywhere but seeing nothing. Her gaze was glassy and her eyes kept darting around as though she were searching for something but had no idea what.

"Tonks?" he said, sitting beside her and putting a hand gently on her arm.

"It was them," she whispered showing no recognition that he'd spoken at all, much less to her.

"I need you to tell me what happened," he implored, running his hands comfortingly up and down her trembling arms.

"I… I have to go home," she said suddenly, looking at him and nodding her head. "He might need me. He might… he might…"

"Tonks, right now you need to tell me exactly what happened," Remus said again, brushing a lock of hair from her face.

She started looking around the room frantically again, her mouth agape but saying nothing.

"Tonks…" he tried again.

"Nym?" he asked, shaking her shoulders slightly.

Her eyes snapped to his face with a jolt of recognition and the tears started to water over, but he took that as a good thing. At least she was cognizant of what was going on and that was a step in the right direction.

"Oh God, Remus," she said, her shaking hand flying to her mouth. "They have him. They took him."

"I need you to tell me exactly what happened. We will do everything we can to get him back. We'll fight for him. But, first I have to know what happened," he told her gently.

"I… I was getting ready for bed," she said quietly. "I didn't even hear them. They could have killed me and I wouldn't have even known they were there."

A wave of nausea hit him at the thought, but he stroked her hand in comforting encouragement and told her to go on.

"Just, all the sudden I was stunned and on the floor. I think they must have cast the spell silently. Petrificus Totalis I think. They hit me in the back. I'd have never even seen them except that one came around in front of me and knelt down to stare me in the face," she said in little more than a whisper. "I knew who he was. He just sneered and broke my wand in half and snapped his teeth at me threateningly with this crazy look in his eyes."

Remus froze. His hand still lay on Tonks' but all movement stopped. He couldn't even breathe, which is why the sound of his own voice shocked him.

"Greyback."

It wasn't a question, but she nodded anyhow.

"I heard John in the next room. He screamed for a moment, screamed for me. Then it was muffled and then it stopped. By the time the spell wore off me they were gone," she said sobbing.

Remus clenched his eyes shut and concentrated on his breathing to calm himself. Inside he was raging. There were very few reasons that Greyback could want Tonks' son and it went without saying that none of them were good.

A part of him wanted to reassure Tonks and tell her everything would be fine. But it would be a thinly veiled lie and she wouldn't appreciate it in the least.

With a heavy sigh, he moved to stand, but Tonks held onto his hand with white-knuckles. Her pleading eyes held his gaze and the tears still spilling down her cheeks pained him more than he cared to admit.

"I'm just going to send a patronus to some Order members. They need to know what's happened. The other children could be in danger," he said gently, resting his free hand atop her steely grip.

She nodded and loosened her grip, but he still had to stroke her hand comfortingly before it was unclenched enough for him to extricate himself from her grasp.

He sent the patronuses quickly, to Harry, Ron, Kingsley, Mad-Eye and McGonagall. The first three would need to ensure their families' safety. The last two, he knew, would immediately begin a search.

He looked back at Tonks. Her shoulders were shaking with the force of her tears. He placed his hand gently on her back and she jumped in surprise before smiling at him weakly. He had to wonder how long it had been since she'd had someone to turn to for comfort.

She threw herself into his arms quite suddenly, clinging to him desperately. He kissed her dull brown hair and stroked her back in calming patterns all the while muttering comforting but meaningless platitudes.

After a time, her shaking stopped and her tears ran dry. She looked up at him as though she hoped he might have the answer to make everything better again. He looked back at her with sympathy and traced the path her tears had taken on her left cheek with his thumb.

"You should get some sleep," he said encouragingly.

"Are you mental?" She asked. "I have to find my son. We need to go get him."

"Mad-Eye will already have a team from the Order at your flat. They'll do everything they can to find him. You are physically and emotionally exhausted. You need sleep if you're going to be of any good in tracking down your son," he informed her.

She looked a little surprised at the force of his words, but didn't deny the truth in them.

"I couldn't sleep now if I tried. Not when my son is out there with Death Eaters," her voice choked on the last words and if she'd had any tears left in her, Remus was sure she'd have shed some then.

"Then let me make you some tea," he said after a moment.

"After that we'll go find him?" She asked.

"Yes," he confirmed already on his way to the stove.

"Okay," she said meekly.

As he brewed her tea, he pulled a vial of sleeping draught from his robes and covertly poured it in.

"I'm glad you came to me," he confessed, immediately regretting his admission.

"I… my broom just kind of steered its way here," she replied absently. "My wand was in pieces and they had poured my floo powder down the sink, so I just grabbed my broom and took off."

"Don't Harry and Ginny live closer to you?" He asked, handing her the tea.

"Yes," she said, gulping down some tea. "I suppose I should have gone there, but I wasn't thinking."

"And I knew you'd protect me," she said after a moment, so quietly that he almost didn't hear it. Even after he did hear it, he almost didn't believe it. That she had any faith left in him whatsoever was a little mind-boggling to him. And anyhow, Nym was not the type of woman who sought protection. She had always been self-sufficient, almost to a fault.

"I didn't protect you the last time I saw you. I hurt you," he said sadly before realizing that this probably was the very last conversation she needed right now.

She yawned dramatically and sleepily stared him in the eye.

"Yes, you did," she agreed. "But, not the way you're thinking. You leaving hurt me more deeply and scarred me far more than your claws ever did."

He found himself suddenly extremely interested in the edging on the table and refused to meet her eyes.

"This is not the moment for such a conversation," he said with a quiet sigh.

"Of course not. It never will be, will it?" she asked, finishing up the last of her tea and yawning again.

"Perhaps someday, but not right now. There isn't time and you need sleep," he said, smiling back at her weakly.

Recognition dawned on her and her eyes widened considerably.

"Sleeping draught?"

He nodded.

"Right bastard."

He chuckled and got up to escort her to a bedroom. She cursed at him, but knew it was futile to fight sleep now. Her legs failed her as they reached the foyer and he swept her up into his arms to carry her the rest of the way. If she remembered this in the morning, she would hex him for carrying her like some swooning heroine in a romance novel. But for now, she only made a little sigh and buried her head in his chest.

He placed her on the bed gently after performing a scourgify on the sheets, momentarily giving into temptation and kissing her on the forehead as he stroked the side of her face.

"Sleep well, Nym," he murmured, his lips still pressed against her forehead.

He moved to leave when her hand grabbed his. She looked up at him sleepily, but her grasp was surprisingly strong.

"Please don't leave," she said.

His heart leapt into his throat and his response came strained and utterly tortured.

"Tonks, I don't think that's the best idea."

"Please," she said again. "I'm not asking you for anything. I just can't be alone right now."

He hesitated, staring at their joined hands with a look of longing and self-loathing.

"I just lost my little boy. I need this. Don't make me beg, Remus," she whispered.

He caved at that and with a pained sigh he eased himself onto the bed beside her and stroked the side of her face with poorly concealed affection.

"Sleep," he said resignedly. "I'll be here when you wake."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N – **Thanks so much to those who have reviewed, so far. My birthday is tomorrow, so I will take this opportunity to shamelessly ask for feedback as a birthday present! Updates will be a bit slower from now on. Two-to-three weeks per chapter or so, I think. But, for now enjoy chapter five!

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**Chapter Five**

Sleep did not come easily to Remus. In the scarce moments he slipped from consciousness, he dreamt of her. Even worse, while awake, he was painfully aware of her body half-draped over him and he found himself staring at her face through a halo of oddly brownish-pinkish hair.

He really, really wished he'd brought more sleeping draught.

She shifted slightly in her sleep, her cheek nuzzling his chest and her face turning upwards a little more. Her lips parted in a little half-moon and a small, almost contented sigh escaped.

He breathed in deeply as she exhaled, taking in the ever-constant scent of her. Despite the tiny lines around her eyes, despite the slightly sharper angles of her face and the wider curve of her hips, had he not known better he could have sworn it was still seven years ago, that she was still his.

"Remus," she muttered in her sleep.

His breath froze in his throat and he brought a shaking hand up to gently stroke her face. In the haze of sleep, she rubbed her cheek into his hand and murmured his name again. Something inside him broke then. He pinched his eyes shut, willing the burgeoning tears to fade away. At her next words, he knew it was a futile effort.

"Remus… please…don't leave us… not again," she whispered in half-broken words as she continued to slumber.

The moment overwhelmed him completely. He withdrew his hand and extricated himself from her lithe form as gently as he could, to avoid waking her. He fled to the relative safety of the bathroom and collapsed with his back to the door.

Heaving, silent sobs left him gasping for air as though he was drowning and, in a way, perhaps he was. He was left with one unavoidable thought – since he would never stop loving her and since he could never be with her, he should never have come back. Leaving her had been the hardest thing he'd ever done. Saying goodbye to her again would kill him, if she didn't finish the job first.

His was raking his fingers through his hair when a slivery ghostly sort of image burst through the wall. He jumped momentarily before realizing that the figure was not an apparition, but a patronus. More specifically, Mad-Eye's patronus.

Remus was suddenly profoundly grateful that patronuses could not relay messages unless specifically given one. The idea of Mad-Eye finding out that Remus was in tears just ten feet away from Tonks sleeping in the bed he'd shared with her last night gave the man pause. Mad-Eye had always been a bit overprotective of his auror recruits for the Order and Remus long suspected Tonks to be the retired auror's favorite.

The ethereal lumbering beast, an old grizzly bear that like its master was missing an eye, pulled up to its full, imposing height before delivering its message. Remus couldn't help but think that Mad-Eye would approve of the bear's purposefully imposing form. With a sigh and a grimace, Remus nodded to the patronus, rose and splashed water on his haggard face.

Steeling himself for the day ahead, Remus took a deep breath and headed back into the bedroom where Tonks still slept. Very little light seeped through the fog outside, leaving only the barest of natural light bathing the room through a solitary window. The dreary glow filtering through the hazy, dust-filled room drained the color from Tonks' hair, washing out the little pink there was and leaving only drab brown in its place. Had he been a believer in divination, Remus would have thought it an omen for the rest of their day.

"Tonks?" he said gently, stepping as close to the bed as he dared.

She mumbled incoherently and the sheets rustled as she found a more comfortable position, but she didn't wake up.

"Tonks," he said a little louder, receiving no better a response.

He should have known better, he realized. Tonks had never been a morning person. There had been so many days where he'd finally had to resort to kissing her awake before pointing out she had just 15 minutes to get ready for and Apparate to work. Somehow, he did not think that would be the best approach this time around.

With a ragged sigh, Remus swallowed his pride and better judgment. He moved to the very edge of the bed and knelt down to her eye level. His fingers weaved through her hair, skirting the side of her face, as he pronounced her name once more.

Her eyes flickered open, finally, and met his gaze with bleary confusion. For one very long moment, reality had yet to set in. Her son was not missing. He had not hurt her or left her. It was just _them_ – eye-to-eye with a few hesitant rays of sunlight invading the calm of early morning. Of course, such moments never last.

The look of confusion bled from her face, as did the scant remnants of color from her hair, and a stony mask of pained indifference schooled her features. The look was entirely wrong on her. Remus found himself selfishly and desperately hoping it was the loss of her son and not any action on his part that had drained the exuberance from her spirit. Some scars, he knew, did not heal so well as others. He doubted her soul had emerged from their time together entirely unscathed. His certainly hadn't.

"What time is it?" She asked hoarsely, sitting up and running her fingers through her hair in a fruitless attempt to eliminate the morning snarls.

"Nearly seven," he replied, clearing his throat and pulling himself up from his kneel.

"We need to get moving," she said, standing up a bit too quickly and grabbing onto the headboard to support her wobbling frame. "We've lost too much time already."

"Slow down," he admonished, barely managing to keep himself from reaching out to steady her. "Mad-Eye's patronus was just here. They've spent all night combing your flat for clues. He'll be here in half an hour to brief us and work out a plan."

She nodded and smoothed over the wrinkles in her robes, not meeting his eyes.

"And the others?" She asked. "Were there any more… attacks last night?"

"None," he assured her. "Everyone who isn't helping in the search for John is holed up at the Burrow. From what I understand, it's a bit cramped, but there are six Order members looking after Christopher and the youngest Weasleys and Kingsley's daughters."

"Good," she nodded blankly. "That's good. Kingsley would go out of his mind if anything happened to either of his girls. Be glad you weren't around when he lost Hestia."

"I, um… I was wondering what happened to her, after not seeing her at the Order meeting," Remus admitted.

"Two years ago," Tonks told him, lacing up her combat boots. "She took a killing curse while fighting Rabastian LeStrange just outside Hogsmede."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said, feeling as though he ought to say more, but unsure of what. "She was… well she was a patriot and an exceedingly kind witch. I'm sure her loss was felt strongly within the Order."

"It was," Tonks confirmed, with a final tug on her boot laces.

"Have we lost many others?" he asked, realizing not for the first time that he'd missed out on quite a bit.

"Since you left?" she asked, absently stubbing the toe of her right shoe into the floor. "Well, Elphias Doge passed on of Dragon Pox four years ago. And we've lost… four, no wait, five newer recruits that joined after you left – two aurors, an unspeakable, a Durmstrang professor and… and my dad."

"Your father?" Remus balked.

Tonks nodded, but said nothing, staring at her boots, her flexing toes barely visible through the thick leather.

"I'm so sorry," he said quietly. "I had no idea."

She shrugged with an indifference she clearly didn't feel.

"Dad went out doing what he wanted to do, fighting the good fight," Tonks said with false banality. "It was just over three years ago. He and mum were livid when they found out about the Order and that they hadn't been asked to join. Mum didn't talk to me for three weeks after she found out Sirius had been innocent and died serving the Order. Of course, she couldn't stay mad at me for too long. There is no power on this earth strong enough to keep her away from her precious grandson."

Remus sat on the bed and nodded encouragingly at her, but said nothing.

"John was… well they weren't sure he'd make it when he was born. There were… complications. They had to deliver him early and he was really weak. Mum has just coddled him constantly, spoiled him rotten, because of it," Tonks said smiling weakly and sparing him a glance.

"I think every grandparent is like that," Remus chuckled.

"She hasn't been the same since dad died. I mean, she was there when it… when it happened and she's never been the same since. She's on a mission right now, in France somewhere," Tonks added. "That's why she wasn't at the meeting yesterday."

"It's good she's keeping busy," Remus offered, feeling utterly unsure of what to say.

"Yeah," Tonks agreed. "I'm glad she's away right now. She'd be a wreck with… with John missing."

"We're going to find him, Tonks," Remus assured her, trying to catch her eye.

"Bellatrix crucioed my dad until he bled from his eyes, Remus," Tonks said, meeting his gaze. "Just promise me I won't find my son like I found my father."

Remus' eyes clenched shut of their own accord and a knot of nausea settled in his stomach. He'd only met Ted Tonks a handful of times, but such a death seemed almost impossible for the Muggleborn whose affable nature had always put everyone at ease.

"I won't lie to you, Nym," Remus said quietly. "At the moment we have no control over this situation. But, I promise you that I will do everything in my power to bring your son home safely."

She worried her bottom lip and nodded as though weighing his words, his tone, the indefinable look in his eyes for their merit.

"I wish that were enough," she said solemnly after a beat.

"Me, too," he sighed.

A long quiet moment stretched between them and Remus wanted nothing more to hold her and swear to her that he would make everything all right. But, that wasn't his place, not anymore, and she hardly needed the confusion of mixed messages from him in the middle of everything else that was going on.

"I think I left a change of clothes here last time I stayed," Tonks mumbled suddenly, shuffling her feet aimlessly. "I'll meet you in the kitchen in a few minutes."

She stumbled from the room in a daze leaving him alone with maudlin thoughts crowding his mind.

When he'd left her, he'd thought, perhaps a bit egocentrically, that by parting ways all of her hardships and suffering would somehow leave with him. He knew, of course, that he was meant to suffer. It was the curse of any dark creature, he'd told himself. But, surely she, with all her innocence and optimism, would be immune from such horrors without him around. He'd known she would miss him, for a time anyhow. But eventually, with him out of the way, she would be spared the angry wrath of fate, or so he'd thought.

Now, standing in the dust-filled, hazy guest room of the defunct Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, he found himself oddly surprised to realize that he hadn't cornered the market on tragedy and even more surprised at his presumptions that he would.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N** - Thank you so very, very much to everyone who reviewed. I know I have yet to reply to some of you, but I promise I will. For some reason, this chapter was harder to write than I expected. Big thank you to psychicnagger, my new beta, for her continual encouragement and periodic _Have you written more yet? _messages on instant messanger. Expect a longer (and likely better) chapter when I post chapter seven in about two weeks or so. As always, reviews are heartily welcomed!

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**Chapter Six**

Mad-Eye was in the kitchen dubiously sniffing the contents of a tin full of tea leaves by the time Remus entered the room.

"It's not poisoned, Alastor," Remus smiled faintly. "I had some last night."

"And ye just assume the world stops while you sleep, do you lad?" asked Mad-Eye roughly, his good eye focused on Remus while his fake one remained inspecting the tea. "Anyone could have snuck in here while ye slept and tampered with it!"

"Yes," Remus agreed dryly. "Anyone who had been told the location of Grimmauld Place by Dumbledore prior to his death could, in fact, have slipped in unawares overnight to poison the tea of a fellow Order member."

"Need I remind you of Severus Snape?" asked Mad-Eye, apparently deeming the tea fit to be brewed in spite of the ongoing argument.

"Certainly not," Remus said, a bit harsher than he'd intended. "But, unless they've somehow found a way to reverse the Dementor's kiss, I think we shan't need to worry about him at this point."

"Cheeky as ever, Lupin," Mad-Eye said, nodding gruffly.

Remus took this as some kind of approval from the old auror, odd as it was. Perhaps it was the older man's way of reaffirming that Remus was, in fact, still himself and not some polyjuiced Death Eater. One could never tell for certain with Mad-Eye.

"Nym should be down in a minute," Remus told the old auror, handing him a mug. "She was just searching for a spare set of clothes."

"What is it with you and that infernal nickname?" Mad-Eye asked as the tea kettle whistled. "Can't say as I quite know why you ever started calling her that."

Remus had the good grace to blush and turn away slightly, moving toward the table while his mind searched for a plausible explanation. But, his efforts were in vain as Tonks stood in the doorway.

"He refused to call me Tonks in bed," she said with none of the discretion Remus had foolishly been hoping for. "And he couldn't quite gasp out the whole of Nymphadora."

For the very first time ever, Remus found _both_ of Mad-Eye's eyes were focused on him with a mixed look of total mortification and indignant protectiveness. It was entirely unnerving and an experience he would absolutely strive to ensure was one-of-a-kind.

"Well I hardly think you should be calling her that these days, should you?" Mad-Eye growled.

Remus nodded, rather proud of himself for not breaking Mad-Eye's stare.

"Perhaps not," he agreed.

"Oh rubbish," Tonks muttered, grabbing a cup of tea and collapsing into a chair. "I'm hardly concerned about a bloody nickname when my son is missing. What do we know, Mad-Eye?"

Remus had never seen Tonks looking quite so vulnerable as she did that moment, wearing a sullen expression and a far-too-large, mind-numbingly orange shirt proclaiming "Chudley Cannons do it with a bang!" on it. It occurred to him, quite suddenly, that while he might feel as though he'd failed her by putting her in harm's way all those years ago, she almost certainly was feeling as though she'd failed her son. And it pained him horribly to see that weary, guilty expression on her face.

"Kingsley, two of the Weasley boys and I spent the night combing your flat," Alastor said grimly. "Best as we can tell, there were at least four of 'em. None of 'em heavyset based on the footprints. We're analyzing the magical signatures left behind. We'll know more about that in a couple of days. At first glance I'd say we're looking at some of the less… restrained Death Eaters."

"It was Greyback," Tonks said with an oddly blank look on her face and a slightly shaking hand on her cup of tea. "I saw him."

Remus could practically hear Mad-Eye's fake eye spinning around to stare at him. Merlin only knew what the older man must be assuming. Just a day after he returned to the country his ex-lover's child was kidnapped by a monster that considered Remus something of a nemesis.

"I shouldn't have come back," Remus sighed, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

"Why the hell not?" Tonks snapped, her eyes flaring with emotion that Remus wasn't sure if he should be nervous or glad to finally see from her.

"This can hardly be a coincidence, Tonks," Remus said in what he hoped was a calming voice. "Greyback must know I'm back in the country. He's using you to get to me."

"Such a bloody martyr, aren't you Remus?" Tonks accused, slamming her mug down onto the table hard enough that her tea sloshed over the side. "Did you ever stop to think that this might not be about you? Death Eaters kept coming after us after you left and they'll keep coming after us now that you're back."

He looked at her a bit stunned. Hadn't he just had this conversation with himself earlier this morning? But there was a difference between stupidly assuming he'd cornered the market on suffering and seeing far-too-coincidental attacks by their enemy.

"If it were anyone but Greyback I'd agree with you," he said gently. "But he and I have a substantial history that shouldn't be ignored."

"Well they clearly want something," Alastor broke in, earning him a surprised look from both of them who had apparently forgotten about his presence. "It's rather obvious that if they were just after revenge they'd of likely killed Tonks and the boy right there in the flat."

Tonks paled some as Alastor gave her a knowing look that Remus couldn't quite interpret. She looked even more terrified, if that was possible, at the idea that Greyback was after something other than the life of her son.

"You're assuming they're acting logically," Remus pointed out. "Dealing with Greyback, that could be a mistake. When it comes down to it, we've no idea what his plans or motivations are. He's not rational."

"You'd do well to remember that we've had quite a few run ins with Greyback and the other Death Eaters while you were off finding yourself, Lupin," Mad-Eye rebuked. "We've a fairly good idea what he's like by now."

"What else did you find?" Tonks asked, barely above a whisper.

"No Apparition signatures. No Floo travel. Doesn't look like a portkey was used. They either left on foot or by broom," Alastor told her.

"What else, Mad-Eye? What aren't you telling me?" she demanded more harshly.

Mad-Eye grunted in appreciation that she was able to read him as well as she could.

"Our best lead is a few droplets of a potion we found in the boy's room," Mad-Eye acknowledged gruffly. "At first glance it looks like a combination of a mild petrification potion and a draught of peace, most likely to calm him down and keep him from morphing and escaping when they took him…"

"But?" Remus prompted.

"But," Mad-Eye continued. "There are flecks of something else in the droplets. At first we thought maybe it wasn't actually part of the potion. Maybe it was something on the carpet that just got lifted with the droplets when we accio'ed them, but whatever it is has magical properties. Hermione is looking into it, now."

Tonks pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes shut tightly, and nodded her head.

"I met up with Potter and McGonagall after I left your flat," Mad-Eye said gruffly. "They both know you'll want to be right in the thick of things on this. It's against my professional advice, but Potter's gone ahead and said to let you head this up, if you're up to it. But, you'd best keep vigilant, lass! I know this is personal, but you can't let that overwhelm your training. A distracted auror is a dead auror and you'd do well to remember that."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mad-Eye," she said sarcastically before sighing deeply and slipping into auror-mode. "Right then, first thing's first. Mad-Eye, keep on those magical signatures. I want to know exactly what was cast and by who. And let me know first-thing when Hermione finds out what the components are of that potion. Have Dung drop a few questions in the dodgier parts of town. And, I want two teams canvassing my neighborhood. If they left on foot someone might have seen something or if we're lucky they might be holed up nearby."

Mad-Eye nodded with what was nearly a smile on his face. Apparently he was proud of how his favorite protégée was handling this crisis.

"Remus and I will survey the scene ourselves and then head to Diagon Alley. I need a new wand, since they snapped mine, and I'll want to have a chat with a few apothecaries as well," Tonks said. "The hellebore used in the draught of peace is a controlled substance. It would be too much luck for us to have a known Death Eater registered as buying some, but we know they have a potions master working for them if they're combining complex potions like these. Maybe with a process of elimination we can determine who it is and find an easier route to Greyback than scouring the countryside for dens."

"It's a good start," Mad-Eye affirmed with an approving nod. "You'll be checking in regularly with the rest of us. A patronus is fine, but I want you both at the Order meeting tonight, 10 o'clock at the Burrow. Understood?"

She nodded as she stared down at the remnants of her tea looking for answers that weren't there. Her brow was furrowed, her eyes hard. Remus knew the expression well. He'd seen it on his own face for years. She was blaming herself for all of this.

He reached over and gently gripped her elbow, earning him a surprised glance from her and most likely a searing glare from Moody.

"You didn't do anything wrong," he told her reassuringly. "This isn't your fault."

She watched him for a moment, obviously wanting to believe him but the look in her eyes told him that she didn't.

"I've got to owl in sick to work or something," she said suddenly, not debating or agreeing with him.

She stood up almost jarringly quickly and turned away from the weak form of comfort he'd been attempting to provide.

"Wait," Remus said suddenly, an idea dawning on him. "What about the Ministry? If we report that John's been taken then we'd have more aurors to keep an eye out for –"

He was interrupted by a clearly terrified Tonks.

"_Are you bloody mad_?" She snapped reflexively, gripping the back of her chair with white knuckles.

Remus sat there a bit bewildered at the outburst.

"Do you have _any _idea what would happen if we told them?" She asked on the verge of hysteria. "We _can't_. They _can't_ know anything about this."

"Why ever not?" Remus asked stunned, finally finding his voice.

"You've not been in England for years, have you?" Mad-Eye asked, drawing Remus' attention from Tonks for the moment.

"No, I've… I've been a lot of places, but this is the first time I've been back since I left," he confirmed.

Tonks sighed, drawing his attention back to her. There were frustrated tears in her eyes as she ran her fingers harshly through her dull brown hair.

"Metamorphs were reclassified as dark creatures a few years ago," she told him with no preamble.

"_WHAT?"_ he asked. "That's mad!"

"The Ministry had some trouble with two different of Metamorphs about five years ago," Mad-Eye said calmly. "One of 'em successfully robbed Gringotts four times before he was caught. He'd been morphing into a goblin to avoid suspicion. Caused quite a scandal. Another tried to assassinate Scrimgeour by morphing into his secretary and poisoning his morning tea. Scrimgeour took it rather personally and waged a public relations campaign in the Daily Prophet disparaging shape shifters. Only took three months before the public was backing Scrimgeour's efforts to reclassify them and put the same restrictions on them as the other so-called dark creatures."

Remus gaped at Tonks, a look of utter disbelief and horror in his eyes. She offered a tight-lipped, weak smile that was probably meant to be reassuring but came off more as guarded than anything else.

"I guess you can understand why we can't go to the Ministry," she said tiredly. "You know what they do to unrestrained dark creatures as well as I do."

He nodded mutely.

With a flick of her wand, Tonks sent what was left of the tea over to the sink.

"Enough of this," she said, suddenly all business again. "We need to get a move on."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N **- Thank you, Psychicnagger for not only poking holes in my plot, but spending hours helping me find plausible ways to work around them. Also thanks to those who have left reviews, especially con-crit! You know who you are.

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**Chapter Seven**

It was immediately obvious what Mad-Eye had meant when he'd said it looked as though some of the less restrained Death Eaters had taken John. Tonks' flat was an utter wreck, with broken pieces of furniture, mirrors and knickknacks strewn across the floor.

Stepping out from the fireplace, she looked around the room as though seeing the destruction for the first time. And considering her state of mind when she'd arrived at Grimmauld Place the night before, perhaps she was.

Tonks knelt down and brushed some broken glass away from a photograph that had been resting on the hearth before the attack. John was probably about four years old in the picture and was tickling his mum mercilessly, both of them with blindingly blue hair the same exact color as the cotton candy in Tonks' hand. She took a ragged breath and pinched her eyes shut for a moment, willing herself to look at everything professionally instead of personally.

Remus put a steadying hand on her shoulder and squeezed tightly in support. He was surprised when, eyes still tightly shut, her free hand grasped his and held on white-knuckled as if drawing strength from him. After a moment, she allowed her hand to fall away and let loose a bone-weary sigh.

"Let's go over the crime scene as if it's not been cased yet," she said stoically as she pocketed the picture.

"All right," he agreed, catching her eye for a moment.

Beneath the bland look of an Auror at work, there was gratitude in her eyes and he knew he'd done the right thing by lending silent support instead of offering quiet whispers of trite reassurance.

She surveyed the room with practiced ease, as if it were an ordinary crime scene. He'd been on enough missions with her during the war that he recognized exactly what she was doing, but he was years out of practice at examining attack sites for clues and felt a bit useless next to her perusal.

"Tonks?" a distinctly masculine voice called.

Remus automatically went for his wand before mentally chastising himself. It wasn't as though Death Eaters called out for their victims before attacking. But Tonks was currently without a wand and he was more than on edge at the idea of protecting her.

She had been examining the pattern of a curse blast on the wall next to the kitchen, but her head whipped around at the sound of her name.

Charlie and Ron Weasley both stood in the doorway to John's room. Well, Mad-Eye had said that two of the Weasleys had been helping him with the search of her flat, hadn't he?

"Charlie," she said in an awful, strained voice. "What are you doing here?"

Charlie didn't seem to notice Remus, still near the hearth, but Ron's eyes were darting oddly back and forth between his brother and his old professor.

"I came as soon as I heard," Charlie said, crossing the room in a few large strides and gathering Tonks up in a tight hug.

She stiffened noticeably in his embrace and gave him an awkward pat on the back in return before extricating herself from his arms.

"Another set of eyes is always useful," she said uncomfortably. "So, thank you for coming. We're just here to go over the scene again."

Charlie gave her a quizzical look at the word "we" before his eyes darted around the room and he spied Remus. The warmth in his face when he'd looked at Tonks faded immediately.

"Lupin," he greeted roughly.

Remus quirked an eyebrow at the cold greeting.

"Weasley," he responded in kind.

The younger man's hand was still on Tonks' back, but she shimmied away from him discreetly while glaring at Ron. The younger Weasley gave her an apologetic shrug which Charlie missed but Remus caught, leaving him extremely curious as to what precisely was going on.

"Does this look like a Crucio to you?" Tonks asked, clearing her throat and pointing at the scorch mark on the wall. "See the way the burn mark has that webbing on the right edge?"

Remus crossed the room and instinctively stood between Charlie and Tonks.

"Yes, I'd say that's a fair assessment," he agreed.

"That was Moody's guess," Charlie nodded, still glaring at Remus in a less than covert manner.

"But it was aimed at the wall," she mused. "I mean, I must have already been taken out and I'd have heard if they cast it on… their target. I didn't hear any of them fighting with each other. I think they just… aimed it at the wall."

"Some kind of a message, then?" Ron asked, stepping into the conversation.

"Yes, I think so," Tonks said, examining the mark closely. "They're taunting me, leaving an obvious magical signature as evidence. They don't think I'll be able to find them. But they're also expressing their hatred and their desire to cause me pain."

"I think it's more than that," Remus said thoughtfully. "If they just wanted to cause you pain, they'd have cast it on you, wouldn't they? No, they wanted to taunt the Order. They wanted to leave their mark of hatred for all of us to see, like the dark mark but less obvious."

"Ruddy bastards," Ron grumbled.

Tonks sighed heavily and ran her fingers through her lank, brown hair. Her eyes flittered around the room in well-practiced patterns, looking for things that none of the rest of them would see.

"There's some blood on a piece of broken glass near the hearth," she said. "Was that one of you boys or did one of them cut themselves while tearing apart my flat?"

"Was one of them," Ron said. "Moody's taken a sample for Hermione to analyze along with the potion."

"They were awfully careless with evidence," she said perplexed. "I mean, Greyback ensured that I saw him. They left blood. They left potion. They cursed the bloody walls…"

"It's very probable, then, that all of the ones involved in the attack were known Death Eaters," Remus said, feeling oddly satisfied as Charlie tried to lay a comforting hand on Tonks' shoulder only to have it shrugged away.

"Yes," Tonks said, nodding as she shot Charlie a warning look and glanced around the room. "But we don't know of any potion masters who are Death Eaters, these days. So that also tells us that whoever brewed the potion wasn't here for the attack. I think that's our strongest lead for now. It's the clue they didn't want us to focus on."

"Tonks," Charlie said slowly. "Have you thought about why they might have done this in the first place?"

"We knew they were after Order members. What better way to get at the heart of our organization than through our children?" she asked.

Charlie nodded and bit his upper lip, obviously warring with whether or not to say something else.

"It's just…" he started, ignoring a pointed look from Tonks. "After what happened last time, I think we need to consider that there might be a motive here we aren't seeing."

"Last time?" Remus questioned, his eyes snapping to Tonks.

"This isn't the first time that Greyback has targeted John," she said plainly. "But then he's always gone after children, hasn't he? So I suppose it's really not so surprising, when you think about it."

Remus' head was spinning. All these years he'd kept away from her to keep her safe. And while he was off feeling sorry for himself, she'd been left behind to deal with the likes of Fenrir Greyback. It was almost too horrible for him to imagine. And, on top of that, he had to wonder if Charlie didn't have a point. Why would Greyback target John?

The most obvious answer hit him like a load of bricks. His eyes went wide with a question on the tip of his tongue as he stared at Tonks bewilderedly. It _couldn't_ be. She'd have told him, wouldn't she? Merlin, how would he ask her that? _Could_ he ask her that? He was so lost in thought that when the others started speaking again, Remus only half heard them.

"But he's never gone after any of the other kids," Ron said gently.

"Well, Chris is too well protected, isn't he? I mean, he's _Harry's_ son. There's just no way Greyback could ever get near him," she argued.

"There _are_ other Order members with kids, Tonks," Charlie reminded her.

"What do you want me to say, Charlie?" she asked, suddenly very annoyed. "I've no idea why he's targeted my son! We don't have motive here, but we do have evidence, so I'm going to follow it and try to find my son."

"How many times," Remus asked quietly, finally settling on an easier question than the one he couldn't get himself to ask her yet.

"What?" she asked as if suddenly remembering he was there.

"How many times has Greyback gone after John?" Remus asked in an oddly subdued voice that most people would have thought meant he was calm. Tonks knew better. Remus was livid.

"This is the second time," she replied. "My parents were watching him that night… when they… when my dad…"

Her voice trailed off and she stared up at the ceiling trying to blink back tears and regain her composure.

For a long moment, no one said anything. Tonks stood there clenching and unclenching her fists reflexively. Ron looked like he'd much rather be anywhere other than her living room. Charlie was obviously contemplating an attempt to be supportive, his hand hovering over Tonks' back, but was apparently unwilling to try and actually touch her again. And Remus… Remus was silently seething with hatred for Greyback and himself while he contemplated a question he couldn't get himself to ask.

"_DAMN IT," _Tonksfinally shouted, breaking the silence as her clenched fist connected solidly with the wall, resounding with a sickening crack.

Wincing horribly and with tears barely beginning to fall, Tonks turned and stalked toward her bedroom, slamming the door behind her as she went.

There was an eerie silence as the three men stood there uncomfortably. It was several moments before they were shaken from their shared contemplation by the sound of a broken sob from Tonks' room.

"We should go," Ron said to Charlie. "Hermione probably needs me to watch Megan so she can do some tests on that potion."

"I'll stay and…" Charlie started before Ron shook his head solidly at his brother.

"You've done everything you can here," Ron told his brother definitively. "Take care of her, Remus. Mad-Eye left some of the potion we found in a vial in the kitchen for you to take with you when you talk to the apothecaries."

With that, Ron grabbed his brother's arm and dragged the frustrated older Weasley toward the Floo.

Remus stood there mutely for a moment after they left before Tonks' door opened again and drew his attention.

"I think I broke my hand," she said quietly, tears half-dried on her flushed face.

"Yeah," he said crossing the room. "That was quite a punch."

"I don't have a wand," she muttered dejectedly. "I can't fix it."

"Let me look at it," he said, gently taking her hand and examining it as carefully as possible.

He was keenly aware of her eyes trained on his face as he gingerly surveyed her hand and murmured some diagnostic and healing spells over it. She flexed her fingers as he finished, testing them out but deliberately not losing contact with his hand.

He looked down at her, sympathy and regret etched upon his face, and she started to cry again.

"I can't even protect my own family. My dad, my _son_," she said through tears. "What kind of an Auror can't protect her family?"

"You're a brilliant Auror, Nym," he told her, caressing her newly healed fingers. "And a fantastic mum."

"Doesn't feel like it," she said, burying her face in his chest and wrapping her arms around him a bit desperately.

"Take the picture out of your pocket," he said after a moment of stroking her back comfortingly.

She looked up at him hesitantly and her hands shook, but she did as he asked and pulled the photo from her pocket.

"Look at that little boy and tell me again that you don't think you're a good mum," he ordered. "That's got to be the happiest child I've ever seen. _He loves you._ This is a kid that's been targeted by Death Eaters and been declared a Dark Creature by the Ministry and he's still got a grin that takes over his whole face. So, don't go telling me that you're not a good mum. I've seen evidence to the contrary."

She looked up at him, gratitude clearly written across her face.

"Thank you," she whispered, kissing his cheek hastily before hugging him tightly again.

His whole body shuddered at the feel of her lips grazing his face and he desperately hoped she didn't notice the effect she had on him.

"Have you examined the scene enough?" he asked, losing himself in the feel of his cheek resting atop her head.

"I've not been in John's room," she admitted. "But… I don't think I can right now. Mad-Eye's been through there thoroughly and we've got a lead to follow up on for now. Let's just get to Diagon Alley, get me a wand and talk to some apothecaries."

"Okay," he agreed readily as she reluctantly moved from his arms.

She stood a few steps away from him, her eyes fixed on him as he stared at the photo in her hand.

"Nym…" he started, his voice cracking slightly as he tore his gaze from the picture to look her in the eyes.

He could tell from her eyes that she knew what he was asking and she suddenly looked absolutely petrified.

"I can't right now, Remus," she finally said in a distant voice. "Please, let's just… Let's have this conversation later? Please?"

Maybe it was that part of him didn't want to hear her say it, because those words would make it all real, would turn his world upside-down and he _knew _it. Deep down, he already had the answer. But that made it his fault, didn't it? It made him, even in his absence, the source of all her grief and pain. Because, why else could Greyback possibly, _possibly _be so persistent about getting to John? And so, in spite of his unanswered question, Remus found himself nodding in agreement with her.

"We've only got a few days until the full moon," Remus reminded her. "Whatever Greyback is planning almost certainly centers around that. Let's get to Diagon Alley and see if we can't get some answers."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N** - Thank you so much to those that continue to leave me reviews! They mean a lot to me and I know I've missed replying to some of you, but believe me I've read every single one and they all made me smile. This chapter took me a bit longer for two main reasons. First, it's by far the longest chapter so far. Second, I have been working on other stories as well. If you are interested in a very 'M' rated, dark R/T fic, you might want to check out my one-shot "Better Days" which is posted here at ffn. With that, I'll let you get on with the story! Enjoy!

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**Chapter Eight**

Diagon Alley was overcrowded with the usual hordes of Hogwarts students that poured into the primary wizarding world's shopping quarter at the start of term. On a normal day, it might have been refreshing to have seen that England's magical population had regained some sense of normalcy after the war. But today Remus found the crowds were simply a hindrance and a waste of precious time.

A pair of young boys abruptly careened into Tonks, knocking her off kilter. It was only thanks to years of finding himself in similar situations that Remus was able to steady her in time and prevent her from falling face-first onto the cobblestone street. The two boys barely paused to shoot an apology back at her as they disappeared into the crowd.

"Thanks," she told Remus, sighing as she looked around at the crowd. "Oh, bugger. I'd forgotten that Hogwarts starts the term tomorrow. Everything is going to take twice as long dealing with this mess of people."

"Can't you just tell them you're an auror working on an investigation and… cut in line?" Remus asked her.

"Well there's a hint of the Marauder I knew," she smirked.

"It was cutting in line or dungbombs and I'm afraid I haven't dropped by Zonko's in quite some time," he said, grinning boyishly.

"Dungbombs might run off our merchants and then where would we be?" she reproached lightly. "And unfortunately I can't just cut in line. Word would get back to the department and I can't afford being put in a position of having to explain what I'm investigating."

"I seem to remember you having quite a bit of leeway in investigations before," Remus frowned thoughtfully.

"You seem to remember the days before I was declared a Dark Creature," she said, using her fingers to make mocking quote signs in the air at the words 'Dark Creature'. "I'm all scary and dangerous now, you know. Have to watch me closely or I might just cut in line or something."

He offered up an apologetic smile and tilt of the head as he took her arm and began to lead her away from the Apparation point.

They weaved through the throngs of students and their families making their way toward Ollivander's, which was packed with soon-to-be first years. The children seemed impossibly young to Remus, standing there wide-eyed, anxiously awaiting their first wands and first trip to Hogwarts.

He still remembered his first ride on the Hogwarts Express like it was yesterday, even if it was more than thirty years ago. He'd been nervous, but felt so grown up, heady with a newly found sense of freedom. And then Sirius and James had tumbled into the compartment he'd been sharing with Peter, begging to be hidden since they'd just thrown sneezing powder into the prefect's compartment. Remus smiled lightly at the memory and briefly envied the first years their journeys ahead.

"How long until John starts at Hogwarts?" he wondered aloud.

"Six years," Tonks said with a sense of awe in her voice. "Assuming no one has overturned the legislation giving Dark Creatures a right to education. Advocates for Dark Creature rights managed to push that through back when Metamorphmagi were put on the list, but it's hotly contested of course. I don't know what I'll do when John goes off to school. It's going to be really hard without having him around all the time."

"Well at least you've got some time to get used to the idea," Remus said kindly.

"Yes, thank goodness for that. Had he been born just a few days earlier he'd be starting the year before and…" her voice trailed off as Remus tried not to mentally do the math.

"Well, I suppose we should find him before I worry about losing him to Hogwarts," she said, abruptly bringing them back to the subject at hand.

There were three children ahead of them in line looking anxious and bored all at once. But the witch who'd taken Ollivander's place running the wand shop looked past the children to Tonks with a significant gaze of recognition.

"You," the old woman croaked out, her dark eyes bulging almost unnaturally. "Yes, you'll be a challenge."

Tonks looked around momentarily, as though trying to ascertain if the woman was talking to her or not.

"My wand was snapped," Tonks said finally with an apologetic smile to the parents of the kids ahead of her in line. "I just need a replacement: nine and a half inches, mahogany, unicorn hair core – mane, not tail."

The old woman clucked her tongue chidingly and shook her head, reaching for a wand without tearing her eyes from Tonks.

"No, no," she rasped mysteriously as she briefly appraised Remus before staring meaningfully at Tonks again. "You've… changed… quite a bit since you got _that_ wand. Haven't you, dearie? In fact, you _change_ rather a lot, don't you Auror Tonks?"

One of the parents ahead of her in line gasped at the name and grabbed her daughter roughly by the arm, dragging her from the shop.

"But mummy, I need my wand still!" the little girl protested.

"Hush, Ariadne!" The woman scolded. "That woman is a dirty shifter. Evil creatures pretend to be human. You never know what those shifty beasts could do while hidden safely behind the mask of someone else's face, do you?"

Remus was shocked at the blatant display of prejudice against Metamorphmagi and wasn't sure whether he was ready to laugh at the idea of Tonks morphing for some nefarious purpose or yell at the woman for her ignorant bigotry. In the end, he did neither and just placed a supportive hand on Tonks' back, lending her strength.

Tonks weakly shot him a grateful and perhaps slightly embarrassed smile before turning her attention back to the witch working the register.

"Thanks," Tonks said sarcastically to the witch, rolling her eyes. "I so appreciate your discretion."

The old woman's bushy grey eyebrows shot up in amusement.

"Never mind," Tonks muttered exasperatedly. "If my old wand's specifications won't do, then what do you suggest."

The witch smiled gleefully, which was somewhat unsettling, and handed Tonks the wand she'd grabbed a moment before.

The instant Tonks touched the wand, a familiar warmth crept up her arm and her body hummed with magic. Sparks flew from the tip before she'd even had a chance to flick and swish the thing.

"Yes," the old woman muttered. "Yes, yes… that's the wand for you, my dear. Quite powerful, with the right interpretation of course. I doubt your magic would have resonated with that wand back when you were headed off to Hogwarts, but it's certainly the right fit for you now."

"What is it?" Tonks asked a bit shocked.

The witch's jagged teeth were fully displayed as she gave an unnerving grin.

"Twelve inches, bamboo. It's very malleable… excellent choice for… shifters. It's quite powerful. I do hope a Dark Creature like yourself has the control necessary to wield it effectively," the woman said disdainfully.

Remus' grip on Tonks' waist tightened automatically at the woman's words and the Auror shot him a grateful, if somewhat embarrassed, look.

"And the core?" Tonks asked the witch curiously, choosing to ignore the woman's slur against Metamorphmagi.

If possible the old woman's eerie smile grew even more and her dark bulging eyes twinkled in delight.

"Werewolf fur," she said slowly, savoring every syllable.

Tonks gasped in surprise and nearly dropped the wand.

"Darkness seeks darkness, Auror Tonks," said the witch, who was looking more and more like a hag with every passing second. "Much like you, a werewolf hides behind the guise of humanity. And, unless I'm greatly mistaken… which I'm not… werewolves play a very important part in your life."

Remus bristled at the hag's words, but only gripped Tonks' arm and tugged slightly in the direction of the door.

"Thank you for your insight," Tonks said bitterly. "And for finding me a suitable wand. How much do I owe you?"

"Oh, that wand has been here for decades awaiting its mate," the witch smirked. "I'll simply thank you for taking that darkness from my shop. There's no charge."

Tonks was obviously fuming, but kept silent as Remus guided her out the door and back onto the main thoroughfare of Diagon Alley.

The crowds had not lessened any, but Remus was keenly aware that quite a few people were now keeping their distance from him and his companion. The ill-concealed whispers and disdainful glances were nothing new to him, but even knowing what had transpired in the wand shop he was somewhat thrown to find that the behavior was directed at Tonks instead of himself. It never ceased to amaze him how ready people were to believe the worst of each other.

"Nym," he started hesitantly, unsure of how to approach the subject. "Is it… do people usually treat you like that?"

"You of all people should know the answer to that, Remus," she said, deliberately not looking up at him.

He was quiet for a long moment, deeply immersed in thoughts of Tonks' life. She was the last person in the entire world who should be treated that way. She was selfless and funny and didn't have a dark tendency in her entire body. The very idea of her as a Dark Creature would have been laughable, had it not been so horrible to contemplate.

Tonks sighed heavily and stopped dead in her tracks, forcing him to turn and look back at her.

"Look," she said a bit roughly. "Some people are prejudicial gits, yeah? That's nothing new. I'm a Black, a half-blood and a Metamorphmagus. There are people who would hold any one of those things against me, but they're not worth my time and their opinions don't mean shite to me.

"I know I'm a good person," she continued, her eyes defiantly locked with his. "No Ministry decree or idiotic stranger in Diagon Alley is going to change that. But more importantly, my son knows he's a good person. No matter who you are, there are people who will hate you for it. If they had their way, you'd hate yourself for it, too. I suspect you know a bit about that."

He grimaced and shot her a warning look.

"I hardly think that's the same thing, Tonks," he said dryly.

"Oh, of course not," she said sarcastically. "You've got a magical disease. I've got a genetic magical mutation. Large sections of society shun the both of us for medical conditions beyond our control. Hardly similar at all."

"Perhaps," he allowed through gritted teeth. "But your… mutation, as you put it, is harmless. You aren't a danger to anyone."

The air chilled slightly as her gaze turned frosty and for the first time it was very readily apparent that living life with the stigma of a Dark Creature had left its mark on her – no matter what she said.

"Try saying that again after you've watched the Ministry interrogate your five-year-old son for four hours simply because he can alter his appearance at will and some bloody crook swore up and down that it was a shifter, not him, who was seen breaking into Quality Quidditch Supplies," Tonks hissed. "I might not lose control of my abilities, but I passed them on to my son who will spend the rest of his life with people assuming the worst of him. So don't you _dare_ tell me that it's harmless."

"You know what I meant," he said gently.

She sighed heavily and ran her fingers through her lank brown hair while surveying their surroundings with stress-laden eyes.

"I never meant to diminish the hardships you've endured," he continued, closing the gap between them and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I was just trying to understand what your life is like, what John's life is like."

"I know," she said quietly. "I'm just… on edge today."

"Perfectly understandable. We've both been through quite a lot in the past 24 hours," he conceded. "I apologize for being so defensive."

"Under other circumstances, I'd really like to have this conversation," she said, smiling weakly as they continued in the direction of the apothecary. "Most people will never understand what it's like to be discriminated against by their own government. I've worked so hard to help John have a positive outlook on his life that sometimes I forget it's okay to be angry about the way we're treated."

"Well then, after this is all over with let's sit down, have some tea and rant at length about the stupidity of the Ministry," he suggested with a sly grin. "I'll even forage up a picture of Umbridge from somewhere to make a dart board out of, okay?"

"Make it firewhisky and you're on," she smiled back with a quirk of her eyebrow.

"You've got yourself a deal," he agreed.

They walked in a considerably more comfortable silence for a moment until the apothecary shop came into view.

"Can I ask you just one more question?" Remus queried.

"Aside from asking if you can ask me a question?" she smirked.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Yes, apart from that."

"Shoot," she told him, chewing lightly on her tongue in that nervous manner she'd always had.

"How is it that you still work at the Ministry with all these new laws? Was it Harry? Did he pull some strings?" Remus asked.

Tonks broke into a full grin for the first time since he'd seen her again and the sight of that radiant smile took his breath away.

"No, not Harry," she replied, oblivious to his enraptured stare. "It was Hermione."

"Hermione?" he sputtered in a stunned voice.

"You remember S.P.E.W, of course?" she asked him.

He nodded mutely in response.

"Right, well, she went a few steps beyond that and expanded her campaign. She founded H.E.R.O. – the Humanoid Entitlement to Rights Organization," Tonks explained.

"Thankfully her acronyms seem to have improved," Remus observed with a reminiscent grin.

"Yes," Tonks agreed. "And she's far more effective now with her war record and her influence as one of the 'Golden Trio.' She's technically also the chief advisor to the head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She couldn't prevent the legislation declaring Metamorphmagi to be Dark Creatures, but she did manage to amend it."

"She's the advocate that ensured Dark Creatures have a right to education," Remus realized, recalling their earlier conversation.

"Correct," Tonks nodded. "And she managed to add a clause stating that current employees could not be terminated on the grounds of their Dark Creature status. Now, that doesn't mean that it doesn't happen, of course. But with my record and my notoriety, the Ministry would have a very hard time justifying letting me go."

"Your notoriety?" he questioned.

"Who did you think caught those two Metamorphmagi that started this whole mess?" she asked. "You should have seen the headlines in the Prophet – 'Shifter Showdown in Diagon Alley!' It was a load of rubbish, of course, but at least they didn't paint me as the bad guy."

"That's why everyone knows who you are, why that woman in the wand shop recognized your name," he said quietly.

"Correct again, professor," she said with a half-smile. "There are only eight Metamorphmagi in the whole of England. They had to make an example of one of us. I suppose I was the easiest."

"Well, thank goodness for Hermione's singled-minded dedication, then," Remus said, forcing a smile at the professor comment. "I always knew she'd make a significant contribution to whatever field she went into, though I must say I'm surprised at her choice in careers."

"You've no idea how much influence you had one them, do you?" Tonks laughed. "They look up to you. They respect you. You didn't just teach them Defense Against the Dark Arts for a year, Remus. You taught them about tolerance and humanity."

"How did I do that?" he asked bewildered.

Tonks stared up at the sky as if looking for inspiration before shaking her head at Remus with a look of bemused incredulity.

"By being _you_, you daft man," she said as though it should be painfully obvious.

Remus wasn't sure what to say to that. Hell, he wasn't sure what to _think_ about that. He'd never presumed himself to be a significant influence on _anyone's_ life, much less Hermione's. So, instead of replying, he blinked a few times to clear his thoughts and held the door of the apothecary shop open for Tonks.

Though he'd not been in this particular apothecary shop for six years, Remus had long ago discovered that every potions supply store in the world was dominated by the same acrid stench of murtlap essence and bubotuber pus. So, it was no surprise when his eyes stung slightly and he had to suppress a mild gag reflex upon entering the shop. In front of him, Tonks shuddered visibly at the smell, but said nothing as she began to work her way through the crowd.

The shop was clogged with a line of at least a dozen people who stood waiting to have their cauldrons signed by an aristocratic-looking man with a smug expression of practiced superiority.

"What the hell is going on?" mused Tonks. "I've never seen this place anywhere near this packed before."

"Consus!" she called suddenly, waving at a fifty-something man with an abnormally small nose and huge ears that stuck out straight to the sides who was restocking a shelf on the far side of the store.

Remus smiled apologetically at the people around them who turned to glare at Tonks for her unruly outburst, but she was clearly paying them no heed.

With a quizzical look on his face, the middle-aged man who Remus vaguely remembered as the proprietor of the shop made his way through the patrons to Tonks.

"Didn't expect to see you back again already, Tonks," the man said with a kind smile. "Have you run out of something for the potion?"

"No," Tonks said hurriedly. "I know this probably isn't a good time. You're awfully busy and all, but I'm here in a… semi-professional capacity. Is there somewhere we can talk privately for a few moments?"

"Certainly," he said with a worried look. "My staff can watch the shop for a few moments. Let's go to my office."

The apothecary's "office," as Remus soon found out, was really more of a cross between a storeroom and a potions laboratory. There were three cauldrons in the corner brewing something that smelled like a mix of petrol and pine – a not at all agreeable scent – and there were only two chairs in the small room, but the older man perched himself on a storage bin and gestured for his two guests to sit.

"It's good to get out of the crowds for a few moments," the apothecary sighed. "Having a series of Potions Masters in to sign cauldrons is a boom for business, but it also means I have to deal with the likes of Deneb Dittmar out there. The idiot wrote one book – Practically Perfect Potions – a decade ago. T'was utter rubbish then and it's utter rubbish now, but he thinks since he's _published_ he's somehow the best thing that ever happened to my shop!"

"The things we do to pay the mortgage, eh Consus?" Tonks smiled.

"Precisely," he nodded cordially.

"Consus," Tonks said, addressing the older man and gesturing toward Remus. "This is-"

"Remus Lupin," Consus said, his eyebrows shooting up as recognition dawned on his face. "It's been quite some time since I've seen you in my shop! I'm Consus Wootton."

"Yes, I remember you," Remus said, shaking the older man's proffered hand.

"I have a few questions I need to ask you, but I'd prefer if we could keep it discreet," Tonks said, looking at Consus meaningfully.

"Of course," he replied, casting a quick Imperturbable Charm on the door. "What's going on?"

"Remus," Tonks said, turning to her companion. "Consus has been quietly supplying potions and potion ingredients to H.E.R.O. for years – blood-replenishing potion for vampires, wolfsbane for werewolves – you name it, he's helped out."

Remus looked to Consus with surprise written in his features. Certainly the man had never asked questions when he'd purchased wolfsbane potion ingredients from him, but he'd never expected this level of sympathy for Dark Creatures from his old apothecary.

"My great-aunt is a vampire," Consus explained. "She'll be three-hundred next year, though she still looks like she's in her mid-twenties. She hasn't hurt a soul since blood-replenishing potion was developed, but every other apothecary in London tried to charge her triple for it! Besides, it was almost impossible for her to get to their shops during business hours. So, when I heard about H.E.R.O. I went straight to Hermione Weasley and asked what I could do to help."

"Consus, the reason we're here is that John's been kidnapped," Tonks said solemnly.

"Oh dear," Consus paled. "What can I do?"

"There were remnants of a potion at the scene," Remus told him. "It looks like a unique brew, some combination of a mild petrification potion and a draught of peace. But there's another ingredient we can't identify."

"Let's have a look at it," Consus said, perching his glasses atop his tiny nose.

Remus handed the small vial of fluid to the man and tried not to notice the nervous but hopeful look on Tonks' face.

"Hmm," Consus muttered, holding the vial up to the light. "Yes, I see what you mean. Is this all of the potion that you found?"

"There are a few more drops that are being tested by Hermione," Tonks told him.

"I should tell you straight away that I have no idea how this potion might react with _any other potions_ that your son might be taking, Tonks," Consus said with a solemn look that Remus couldn't interpret.

Tonks paled and bit her tongue lightly. Her nervousness had been obvious all day, but it was reaching new heights now. Remus' eyes darted from Tonks to Consus wondering exactly what the apothecary was telling Tonks.

"That's one of many reasons we need to find him as soon as possible, Consus," she said quietly.

"Though I suspect it's from some kind of plant, I'm afraid I can't tell you with any certainty what these flakes are without further testing, which apparently Hermione is working on already," Consus said with a regretful sigh, handing the vial to Tonks.

"However," he continued. "I can tell you this. The size of those pieces means that his body won't process the ingredient right away. Whatever that is meant to do, I'd suspect it won't take effect for days."

"Certainly it's a unique potion," Tonks said in a no-nonsense tone. "How many Potions Masters would be capable of creating something like this?"

"Assuming it works as they designed? In England alone I'd say no more than 20," Consus told them, standing up and checking briefly on the cauldrons in the corner.

"Well, we have no way of knowing if the potion worked as intended or if the Potions Master is in England or not," Remus said. "But it's a good place to start. Would you mind writing out a list of names for us?"

"Certainly," Consus nodded, turning away from his cauldrons with a slight nod of approval. "I'll owl it to you by morning, if that's all right? I'd like to check some of my controlled substance sales records to ensure I'm not missing anyone."

"That will be fine," Tonks smiled gratefully. "Could we also get a copy of your sales records for hellebore over the past six months?"

"Of course," Consus said agreeably. "I do wish you the best of luck, Tonks. That boy of yours is a regular ray of sunshine."

"Thank you," Tonks sighed. "You've always made him feel welcome here."

"That's because he _is_ welcome here," Consus said, clasping both of her hands supportively. "And so are you. I expect to see you back in here with him next month as always.

"Until then, I'll keep my ear to the ground," Consus grinned, tapping his considerable ears. "I'll let you know if I hear anything useful."

"We'd appreciate that," Tonks smiled.

"Expect an owl from me by morning," Consus reminded them, heading toward the door and gesturing for them to follow. "Until then, I'd best check make sure that arrogant idiot Dittmar hasn't had my staff replace all the textbooks with his signed copies of Practically Perfect Potions."

With a final thanks to Consus, Remus and Tonks made their way out of the shop. To Remus' surprise, it was completely dark out already and the waxing moon eerily warned of time running short.

"It's getting late, Tonks," he said. "We'd best head to the Burrow and let Molly feed us a bite before the meeting."

Tonks looked ready to protest, but her stomach rumbled loudly, as if on queue.

"Come on," Remus laughed heartily. "Let's get you fed before Molly has my hide."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N – I'm so sorry this took so long. I promise to keep writing this and to get the next chapter out in a much more timely fashion. Thank you so much for continuing to read it! Feedback is greatly appreciated, as always.

**Chapter Nine**

It was immediately obvious that the Apparation notification wards on the Burrow were working just fine, because the moment Remus and Tonks popped into the Weasley's garden, Molly was out the door and pulling Tonks into a tight, motherly hug.

"Oh, Tonks dear," Molly sighed sympathetically. "How are you holding up?"

Tonks smiled in spite of the situation and hugged the matronly figure back.

"I'm holding it together," she assured the older woman. "There's work to be done, you know? Keeping busy is good for me, I think. And we've got some leads to follow. So, there's that."

Tonks' voice trailed off as Arthur appeared in the doorway with Chris sitting on his shoulders. The little boy waved almost shyly at Tonks with a bashful smile.

"I keep going to grab for his hand and he's not there, Molly," Tonks admitted, her voice breaking on the words as she tore her eyes from her son's best friend. "And I look around for him and I'll see some little boy in the crowd and for a second… just a second… I'll think it's him."

Remus felt a bit like an intruder on the scene as Molly made bland, comforting statements and stroked Tonks' hair comfortingly, but quickly got quite emotional herself.

"I… We tried to tell Chris," Molly choked out. "He's such a smart boy and he knows something is going on, but he's staying with us while Harry and Ginny are doing what they can to help out and I don't know how to help him. He's so much like his father, sometimes."

"It'll be okay," Tonks reassured Molly, as the older woman sniffled and quickly brushed away tears from her reddened cheeks. "I'll talk to him, Molly. It's okay."

"Look at me, I'm a wreck! You're such a sweetheart, trying to comfort me when it's your son who's missing, but it's me that ought to be helping you out," Molly said, admonishing herself for her emotional outburst and dabbing at her eyes with a worn handkerchief.

"I'll admit we're hoping for a bit of your cooking, Molly," Tonks smiled weakly, glancing over at Remus who was apparently doing his best to fade into the background. "It's been quite a day and I'm afraid we've not had the chance to stop to eat."

Such an idea must have been blasphemous to Molly, whose face paled and eyes widened at the idea. She shot a critical look at Remus, acknowledging his presence for the first time with a severe stare she'd obviously honed through years of dealing with Fred and George. Remus froze under her practiced, accusatory glare, looking for a moment far more like a deer caught in a set of Muggle headlights than a werewolf.

"And I suppose you'd have had the time to stop if you'd passed out from hunger, hm?" the Weasley matriarch chided, the blame fading from her face as she turned back to face Tonks. "Well, it's no matter now. I've got a roast in the oven and I went ahead and made you a few casseroles to take home."

"Thanks, Molly," Tonks smiled gratefully.

"Let's get you inside and fed," Molly beamed, patting the younger woman on the back. "Oh and I suppose you'd best come in too, Remus."

Having always gotten along just fine with the Weasleys, Remus found himself a bit apprehensive as he followed Tonks and a clearly unfriendly Molly into the house. But, Arthur chuckled and smiled sympathetically in the doorway, clapping Remus on the back warmly as he passed.

"Don't mind Molly," Arthur assured Remus, Chris still perched on his shoulders, but hiding his face shyly. "She's still a bit sore about you leaving, but she'll get over it."

Remus forced a smile, but watched as Charlie scrambled to his feet to hold out a chair for Tonks and wondered if maybe it was his _return_ rather than his _leaving_ that had earned him the disdain of Mrs. Weasley.

He probably would have hung back in the doorway for some time, but Remus found himself being led into the kitchen by Arthur and somehow seated next to Tonks, with Charlie settling directly across from him, looking none-too-happy with the seating arrangement.

"Oh Molly," Tonks sighed appreciatively, fork in hand as she savored a piece of roast. "This food is divine. You're a life-saver."

"Just doing my part, dear," Mrs. Weasley assured her. "Charlie helped, you know."

Tonks offered up a quick smile, but quickly turned her attention to Chris, who had taken to burying his face in Arthur's side and peeking across the table covertly at Tonks.

"You going to hide that handsome face from me through the whole meal?" Tonks asked, teasing the little boy. "It's awfully hard to eat like that, unless your granddad has some food hidden in his pocket."

Chris giggled in spite of himself and tentatively let go of Arthur, offering Tonks his full attention and Remus his first good look at the boy.

The eyes across the table were not Lily's, as he might have imagined, or even James'. They were very clearly Ginny's rich brown eyes staring back from behind a thick pair of glasses and partially obscured by a mop of unruly black hair. He had a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks that echoed of both Ginny and Lily, but his demure smile was so blatantly, obviously Lily's that Remus' breath caught in his throat.

"Hello," Chris said bravely, offering a hesitant wave at Remus.

_Oh James, how you would have loved this boy_, Remus thought to himself.

"Hello," Remus echoed back.

"'m not supposed to talk to strangers," Chris said matter-of-factly.

Tonks chuckled a bit at this and reached across the table to ruffle Chris' hair affectionately.

"This is Remus," Tonks said. "He's my friend. He's friends with your mum and dad, too. In fact, he was friends with your Granddad James."

Chris' eyes widened to comically huge proportions at this.

"You must be _old,_" he declared boldly.

Tonks tried desperately to hide a snicker at this, but ended up having to fake a cough into her napkin rather conspicuously, instead.

"Now Chris, what did your father tell you about saying nice things?" Molly chastised lightly, ignoring Charlie high-fiving the boy.

"Old isn't _bad_," Chris protested, rolling his eyes. "It just _is._"

"Wisdom of children, eh?" Arthur chuckled, patting the boy on the shoulder and shrugging at Remus.

Thinking about what a pity it was that James and Lily would never know this boy and how much it would have meant to them to have seen him, even just once, Remus smiled at the boy before him and said "You're right. Old isn't a bad thing. Sometimes, old can even be a good thing. After all, being old means I have the chance to have supper with the very bright grandson of one of my very best friends."

Tonks' ill-concealed laughter stopped abruptly and her eyes shot to Remus with a look of pure surprise.

"Well," she said after a long moment. "That's rather a new point-of-view coming from you."

"Time and distance lend some measure of perspective," he replied meeting her stunned gaze with a somber smile.

"Bloody fantastic timing," Charlie muttered under his breath, jarring Tonks from her reverie.

She opened her mouth to reply, but whatever she'd been about to say in response to what Remus had said – or perhaps more importantly to what he'd _implied_ – went unspoken as Chris darted under the table and his messy black hair popped up directly between Remus and Tonks.

"_CHRISTOPHER POTTER_," Molly shrieked. "Where did you learn to behave like that?!?"

"Um… Uncle Fred and Uncle George," Chris admitted sheepishly, climbing up onto Tonks' lap and hiding his face in her side.

"You know better!" Molly admonished, waving her fork in a vaguely threatening manner.

"Yes, Gran," Chris mumbled, one eye on Molly and the rest of his face mashed up against Tonks' robe.

Tonks patted the boy comfortingly with an all-too-understandable look of longing on her face as she stared down at his tiny frame. Given the boy's size and her own son's ability to change his features at will, there was little doubt that Tonks was briefly indulging in the fantasy that it was her son, and not Chris, who was curled up on her lap. Fully aware of the many sets of eyes trained on her, Tonks forced a smile and went back to her meal. Or, rather, she attempted to get back to her meal. It was, after all, an exceedingly difficult task with a five year old nestled firmly in her lap.

"I know my lap is all comfy, but don't you want to sit in your own chair like a big boy?" Tonks finally asked, giving up entirely on eating over the child's head.

Chris shook his head furiously, face still hidden by Tonks' robes, flatly refusing to leave the sanctuary of her lap.

"Christopher, Auntie Tonks has had a long day and she needs to get some food in her," Arthur said gently. "Do you think you might give her a bit of space so she can eat without dropping peas and carrots all over you?"

"M'sorry," came a very small voice, trembling with emotion. "I didn't mean to. M'sorry."

The adults exchanged confused and slightly worried looks around the table before Tonks stroked the boy's hair comfortingly and hugged him tightly with her other arm.

"Hey, now. It's okay," she told him in a soothing voice. "I'm not mad at you or anything."

"Should be," Chris mumbled, finally looking up at her with tears streaming down his little pudgy cheeks. "It's all my fault."

"What's your fault, sweetie?" Tonks asked him, still confused but smiling reassuringly anyhow.

"J…John," Chris stuttered. "It's my fault they took him."

"Oh Christopher," Tonks sighed, pulling the boy into a tighter hug. "Chris, it's not your fault at all."

"It is!" Chris insisted. "It's my fault! The bad people want me cause of my daddy! I heard Aunt Fleur say so. But they couldn't get me, so they took John. So it's my fault and I'm sorry and I wish they'd just taken me 'cause my mummy and daddy would still have each other if I was gone, but you only have John and now you're all alone and I'm sorry!"

Molly was upset enough by Chris' insistence of guilt that she had to leave the room, Arthur following closely on her heels.

"Listen to me, little guy," Charlie chimed, kneeling down next to Chris to meet his eyes. "The only people whose fault it is that John is missing are the people who took him. You didn't do anything wrong."

But John was stubborn in believing his own guilt, turning away from his Uncle Charlie and settling his gaze on Remus instead.

"But, I was pretending to be a Death Eater yesterday when we played and I said Ava Kava and Gran said that's really bad, so what if I did it by mistake and I didn't mean to? What if I'm really a bad person now?" Chris sobbed a bit hysterically.

"It doesn't work that way," Remus told him. "Pretend is just pretend. And you didn't do anything that hurt John."

"Did you want anything bad to happen to John?" Remus asked the boy after it became clear the child didn't intend to respond.

"No!" Chris insisted. "He's my bestest friend ever!"

"And did you do anything that you knew would hurt him?" Remus asked.

"No!" Chris cried.

"Then it's not your fault," Remus assured him.

"But it is!" Chris wailed. "It should have been me instead. Then John would be home with Auntie Tonks and everybody would be happy!"

"You are so much like your dad," Tonks sighed. "First off, we'd all be a wreck with you missing. Do you think your mum and dad would just let you go? Of course not! They love you, silly! We all do."

Chris didn't say anything but the look on his face was clear enough evidence that he was still wallowing in self-recrimination, so Tonks tried a different tact.

"I know how it feels when you blame yourself for something bad that happened to somebody you care about," she told him in a confidential tone.

Chris looked up at her hopefully and swiped at his glasses in a futile attempt to clear them of the tear-tracks that had run down them.

"There was a fight against some bad people once, Death Eaters," Tonks said slowly, her voice conspicuously thick with emotion. "And… and I didn't do so well. I got hurt and I fell down. And the bad person I was fighting, well… she went after someone else. My cousin, she hurt him and he went away."

"The bad person killed him," Chris said with a solemn face, patting Tonks' hand comfortingly as though he were informing Tonks of this fact for the first time.

"Yes," Tonks confirmed, her voice breaking slightly on the word. "And for a long time, I thought it was my fault that Sirius died."

"That's my Godgrandad!" Chris said excitedly, leaving Remus with a bittersweet vision of a future that was not to be - a graying Sirius teaching James' grandson to sneak laughing powder into his Gran's tea or telling bawdy stories about James that the child really shouldn't hear.

"Yeah, that's right," Tonks nodded.

"That wasn't your fault, Auntie Tonks," Chris said with a gigantic sigh, as though it was some great burden to inform her of this. "That was the bad person's fault! Daddy's told me all about that."

"Yes it was," Tonks agreed. "But I didn't understand that at the time. I thought it was my fault because, if I'd just fought better or been faster or smarter, he might not have died."

Chris rolled his eyes dramatically. "Well, _that's_ a silly thing to think."

"I suppose so," Tonks smiled faintly. "So, explain to me again why you think it's your fault that John is missing?"

Chris squirmed in his perch on Tonks' lap and chewed his lip as he thought it over.

"Well, I guess it's not _really_ my fault," he admitted finally. "But I wish it wouldn't have happened."

"We all do," Tonks told him, giving him another tight squeeze before he hopped off her lap. "But we're going to do everything we can to get him back."

"Okay," Chris said, apparently satisfied. "Can I go see if Abby or Gideon are up from their naps and want to play? But not Auror and Death Eater. I'm not playing that game ever again in a million billion years."

"Naps?" Charlie chuckled. "They're down for the night and you should be, too. It's past bed-time, champ."

"M'not sleepy!" Chris insisted through a gigantic yawn.

"Sure you aren't," Charlie laughed. "Remus, why don't you help him find my mum so she can get him ready for bed?"

Remus looked a bit startled at the request and was fairly certain he saw Tonks sigh heavily out of the corner of his eye, but took the boy's proffered hand and led him out of the room anyhow, leaving Tonks and Charlie alone in the kitchen.

"Auntie Tonks isn't my _real_ Auntie, like Auntie Hermione or Auntie Fleur," Chris said solemnly, soon after the kitchen door shut behind them.

"I know," Remus told the little boy. "She's actually your cousin… er, somehow. Your grandad's mum was a Black and so was Tonks' mum."

"So I'm _really_ related to John?" Chris asked excitedly, stopping dead in his tracks and blinking owlishly at Remus.

"You are," Remus confirmed chuckling.

"Wicked!" Chris exclaimed with smile brighter than _Lumos_. "So, we're practically _real _brothers then!"

Remus started to explain that really they weren't _that_ closely related, but thought better of it and ruffled the kid's hair instead. It was a very James-sort of logic. And, if it had been good enough for James and Sirius, why shouldn't it be good enough for Chris and John?

"My Uncle Charlie fancies Auntie Tonks. My mummy said so," Chris said, interrupting Remus' thoughts. "If Auntie Tonks married Uncle Charlie then she'd be my _real_ Auntie."

"Yes, that's true," Remus replied, choking a bit at the idea and wondering at the speed with which a five-year-old could change topics.

"Mummy says that she'd be good for him, but that she doesn't fancy him back and that he ought to learn how to take a hint," Chris informed him, hopping from one floorboard to the next in typical childish fashion. "Daddy said it isn't really so much a hint, since it's more obvious than a Bludger to the head, but Uncle Charlie still doesn't get it."

In spite of himself, Remus found he was grinning and fighting the urge to hop with childish glee alongside Chris.

"Come on, kiddo," Remus said, still grinning as he took Chris' hand once more. "Let's find your Gran."


End file.
